Horrendously Honest Life and Times of Me
by QuinnDeRavensborough
Summary: Ever wondered what happens during Candor initiation? I certainly have. This story is about an Amity boy who transfers to Candor, and describes (through my own imagination) the initiation process he goes through, as well as the people he meets (including a few characters from the original series). If you have any ideas, please feel free to suggest them! :D
1. Chapter 1

Oh, my word! Have you any idea how jerkish you feel choosing a faction other than the one your family comes from? Do you ever stop and think about how you're abandoning your family and treating them like they didn't even take care of you through the messy youth years of your life?

Watching my dark red hand blood drip into the bowl of broken glass was like watching my rebellion drip onto the face of my father, like, "Muahahahaha, Poppykins! Thou shalt suffer my wrath! I hate thee like I hate peanut butter on olives!" Not that I hate my father. He never really made enough allowances for me, that's all. I mean, he was always telling me to shut up and behave and not speak my mind and be one hundred percent self-controlled. Living with him was like living in a straightjacket.

I honestly wish my mother had been bossier towards and around my father. She claimed she'd wanted to "keep the peace", but at what point does keeping the peace cease to be peaceful? Seriously, if she truly wanted peace, she might as well have let truth slip in once in a while.

Choosing Candor was quite the leap. All I knew had been Amity- that is, if you could call my father's domineering household roles Amiable and kind. Everyday, he would say, "Now, Lennon, don't say anything insulting today. Remember what happened your kindergarten year." Even in secondary school, I would go through my classes remembering the stuff I'd said in kindergarten, and how my father would spank me just because I told some sort of unpleasant truth. The funny thing is, everyone looked down on my father for being so harsh.

Which is why he hated my truth telling, because he didn't want his cover as a great Amity guy blown to smithereens.

Throughout this whole time, my mother and older sister Whippoorwill (the name suited her; seriously, before she learned how to whistle, she would make a variety of squealing, hooting sounds) would watch and would not be helpful at all. Maybe my mother was helpful- she knew ways of calming down my father. She had a zenful air about her. I only wish she had stood up for herself more, and put her calmness to good use. She was definitely better than Whippoorwill, who would scold me everyday, calling me her "devil brother", and telling me to clean her room for her.

To be perfectly honest, I think three of the four people in my family really didn't fit in at Amity. I postulate that the only reason Whippoorwill stayed was because of some ugly guy whom she thought was attractive. Mom had warned her about attractive guys, calling them useless for determining one's future.

Anyway, my aptitude test had said I was "prominently" Candorous in my mind, soul, and behavior. (Prominently? Does that mean I have aptitude for other factions? Of course, every idiot knows that "Divergent" folk do not exist, and every Candor member learns when a non-idiot goes about saying such claims). This came as absolutely no surprise to me.

So, before I knew what I was doing, I was on the way to escaping my strict father, only latently helpful mother, and shallow slavemistress of a sister. I became a Candor initiate, riding on the bus to the Merciless Mart and the creepy barracks underneath it where they force initiates to spend their woeful nights.

The whole way there, despite how everyone else loved the sounds of their voices, I was quiet. I was too busy pondering over the morality of my faction choice, of whether or not I should have stayed with my family. They never treated me well, but aren't you supposed to go extra miles and turn the other cheek? I thought to myself there's a fine line between doing the right thing and keeping yourself in an abusive situation. But still… Why did I feel such a guilty ache inside?

It was when the bus stopped and all of the Candor initiates advanced in a disorganized blob to the Merciless Mart when I started talking.

You see, this handsome fellow with shaggy brown hair and a curved nose, garbed in Abnegation gray, handed me a dinner roll.

"You look famished," he said.

"Where'd you get the food?" I asked.

"There were pastries and buns and breads out in the reception hall," he said. "I took some, just in case someone needed a little something along the way."

"There's a reception after the Choosing? How come I never heard about this?!"

"Nobody ever attends, except Abnegationers who think ahead."

The Abnegation fellow smiled.

"You're from Abnegation?" I asked. "How come… if you don't mind my asking, because this might or might not be a rude question… how come you don't have short hair?"

He shrugged.

"I dunno," he said. "I guess I've been so busy, I forgot. My moms didn't care."

Into the Merciless Mart we all walked, all of us initiates, ready to meet our future.

"Walk this way," said the tired-looking lady who had led us all to the bus and the Merciless Mart. "Now that you're finally here and have made it into the wonderful vicinity of Candor, I don't need to supervise you. You'll now be turned over to Sally."

Out from a trapdoor appeared a middle-aged woman with her hair in a tight bun held in place by lethally sharp chopsticks.

"Hi!" she said gleefully, waving rapidly. "I'm so happy to be the initiate counselor and supervisor for this year! I've always wanted this job! I mean, I've also always wanted to make the ice cream, also, and be a lawyer. Of course, I was too lazy to be the latter, but just hardworking enough to go through the training necessary to take care of all of you all. Anyway, welcome to Candor!"

She commenced to say a long, perky speech, which, regrettably, to this day, I do not remember all of. The gist though, was that we had to be prepared to be more honest than we've ever been before, and that we should expect to find a safe place for a diverse crowd of people to speak their minds. She also started talking about ice cream, which is something I've only eaten once or twice. She seemed quite excited about that particular dessert.

Sally then led everyone down the trapdoor, down a short ladder and a long flight of stairs into the basement where the initiate barracks were.

"Of course, unlike those pervert Dauntlesses," Sally said, "the barracks will be divided by sex. Also, you are confined to the barracks from the nighty-night bell till the bell that sounds like a rooster crowing. Man, I hate that rooster!"

"Because it wakes you up every morning?" a blonde girl in an Erudite blue skirt and blouse asked.

"No," Sally replied. "It's because it's a fake rooster. It's like someone is lying to us, pretending there's a real rooster lurking about. Now, everyone, as a first little introduction to initiation, let's all sit down in a circle like a bunch of grade schoolers, and, going counterclockwise, we'll each say our names and something that we feel is personal and private, starting with me. My name is Sally, and I didn't stop wetting the bed till I was sixteen. Now, your turn."

Sitting next to Sally was the Erudite girl who had asked about the fake rooster.

"My name is Alexandra," she said, "and… I still haven't returned a library book, and it looks like I never will. I mean, it was an accident- I just forgot about it, and…"

"You don't need to worry about explaining yourself," Sally said perkily. "Next!"

A dark-haired girl next to Alexandra, a Candor-born initiate, said, "My name's Elizabeth, and I still egg the houses of people I hate."

"You've gotten better at tackling your problem, though," Sally said. "I remember when you were thirteen, and that bad habit of yours got all started. Anyway, next!"

One thing I noticed easily was that the Candor-born initiate's private and personal snippets of information were almost always more shocking and embarrassing than those of the nonCandor-born initiates.

It was my turn to speak.

"My name is Lennon," I started.

"What an interesting name!" Sally interrupted.

"Thanks," I replied, awkwarded out. "I was named after a peaceful guy from one of the past centuries in semi-forgotten history. Apparently, he was also blatantly honest. Speaking of blatantly honest, I guess I should say some personal info. Um… I really am not sure if Candor is the faction for me. I don't think I'd fit in with any faction."

"Of course you'll fit in," said Elizabeth. "If you didn't, your aptitude test would have made you factionless."

"What Elizabeth is trying to say is," Sally said, "welcome to the Candor family. Or, if you prefer it to not sound so lovey dovey, there's a place for you in our collective!" She smiled merrily. "Next!"

The Abnegation fellow whom I had talked to on the way inside the Merciless Mart was sitting next to me. He pushed some of his hair out of his eyes.

"Hi," he said, "my name is Matthew. My piece of embarrassing information is that, at the moment, I'm still getting over some athlete's foot. In a few days, I'll probably be all better, though."

"Ew!" several initiates said, making faces and looking truly disturbed.

I couldn't help but laugh. Matthew looked at me and smiled.

After our rousing period of "circle time", we went back up the stairs and out of the trapdoor, down winding hallways, and into a humongous room. I suspected this must be the main area of the Merciless Mart, where all of Candor's hullubaloo occurs. Right in the center of the room was the symbol of Candor, weight measuring scales, painted for everybody to walk over and ponder at its significance. Standing on the scales painting was a man who looked an awful lot like my father. That got me wondering…

Rows of seats had been placed in front of that man, and all of the initiates and Sally sat down.

"Good day to you all," the man standing on the scales said. "Oh, what the hey! It's been a terrible day for me. I've been stressed out of my mind. So, in my instance, I guess you can all say 'Bad day to you'. Anyway, my name is Jack Kang…"

_Kang?! _I thought. _That's the same last name as me! Oh, my goodness… Could…? Could he…?_

Jack Kang continued, "I am the representative leader here at Candor. If you're all wondering, yes, I am a transfer. Going from Dauntless to Candor was like going from a bad sci-fi series military organization to a corporate fashion version of Whitby Gothic Weekend. My twin brother transferred to Amity. I don't see why he did that; I mean, he's such a jerk."

_His twin brother transferred to Amity?! _The cogs in my head were grinding and rolling.

Jack Kang then said, "Anyway, that's just a little honesty from me, not that it's any of your business. Still, thought I should get you used to hearing that sort of stuff. You'll hear plenty of things you never imagined you would throughout your initiation, which will mostly consist of truth telling and lie detecting exercises. I know you're apprehending it, but… Oh, look! It's almost time for dinner! Cafeteria is down hallway C, take a right at the intersection, then a left at the next, and go down the dead end. Choose door number two, not number one. Have fun learning to be Candor!"

Sally led all of us initiates to the cafeteria. After getting out food (which, ironically, was mostly black and white), most of the nonCandor-born initiates sat at the same table- there weren't many of us. I sat between Matthew and Alexandra.

I picked at my black beans with my fork. Suddenly, I felt the sharp pang of homesickness. What had I done, transferring factions? Was I truly so discontent with my family that I would leave behind the only home I've known? Was I truly so lonely that I never thought I'd leave behind anyone who actually cared?

"Yoo-hoo!" I heard Alexandra say. "Lennon, snap out of it! You're staring off into space."

"Sorry," I muttered.

"I was asking you if you had any siblings," she said. She took a bite out of her white bread covered in black jam.

"Oh…" I was quiet for a second. "I have an older sister named Whippoorwill."

"Where you and her close?"

"No… I'm sorry. I should be more enthusiastic. It's just been a funny day, that's all."

"No problem."

"So… Have you got siblings?"

"Two brothers, Nicholas and Frederick. They were always teasing me. Frederick transferred to Abnegation, which started quite a stir in the Erudite community. I'm sure you're aware of the growing tensions between Abnegation and Erudite…"

"I remember meeting Frederick once," Matthew said quietly. "He helped me pick up cans of food that'd spilled out of my shopping bag. I knew his name, because his transferring certainly didn't stir up just the Erudites."

"Do you have brothers or sisters?" Alexandra asked.

"No," Matthew replied. "I hung out with my neighbors a lot, though, so I feel like they're my brothers and sisters. It's gotten weird since two of them started liking each other, though. It wouldn't have been right to tell them how awkward those two have made it, because it would be self-centered of me. Still, I think I'm not alone in my discomfort."

"Did they do their Choosing today?" I asked.

"No." Matthew scratched his nose. "They're all about a year younger than me. I'm pretty sure most of them are gonna transfer. I mean, Beatrice obviously doesn't fit in at Abnegation- she's too adventurous. Most think her brother is a perfect model of selflessness, but I remember seeing textbooks he'd hidden under his bed and behind his dresser. I don't know how I noticed it, but he obviously hungers after knowledge."

"Let me guess," Alexandra said, "the textbook hoarder is one of the lovers?"

"Yup. He and Susan give each other the eye often, which is the Abnegation equivalent of PDA."

I laughed.

"That's so pitiful!" I said. "I mean, back in Amity, people weren't so finicky about what affection was and wasn't shown in public. I mean, there were definite limits, but it wasn't like walking through a no-kissing zone."

Matthew and Alexandra laughed back.

"Apparently," Alexandra said, "Candor people are not opposed to a variety of PDA types."

"Neither are Dauntless," said a Dauntless-born initiate sitting across from us. Her name was Joan, and she had short black hair and chocolate-colored eyes. She was very robust looking, and kind of scared me. I was certain she could beat me to a pulp.

She obviously noticed my fear.

"Cute Amity boy," she said. "Scared of the warrior girl?"

"By the way," Alexandra asked, "Matthew, Lennon, are you two gonna stay pacifists, now that you've left your old factions?"

I felt horrified. Looking over at the look on Matthew's face, I saw he felt the same.

"Why wouldn't we?" I asked. "You don't just reject old beliefs just because you moved somewhere else. I've always believed in honesty, despite my upbringing, and I've always believed in peace, along with my upbringing."

"I don't see how honesty and peace can go hand in hand," Alexandra said. "That's okay for you to think that way, I guess."

Matthew said, "You don't have to pick fights with your words just to be honest. There are ways of kindly telling the truth."

Joan said, "Whatever. Now that I'm in Candor, I'm gonna say what I want to. Lenny and Matt, you both look like a woosies who've been raised to wimp out all the time. Lenny, your eyes look funny, and Matt, you've got a large nose."

After dinner, and a lengthy tour around the Merciless Mart (which I'm sure only increased my possibilities of getting lost), Sally and a man named Brendon (Seriously? This is why you have to be careful what you name your kids! Brendon is not a name for a grown man!) led all of us initiates back to the barracks.

Brendon led the boys into their specific section. It was one long room full of beds on either side with white or black blankets. Almost everything was black and white- white walls, black floors and ceilings, black or white beds, and white bottles with black labels of freshening spray in case one of the initiates turns out to be a bed wetter. (After some further research, I have an educated hunch that bed wetting is the bane of Candor). On each wall were two large, black and white clocks.

"The bedtime bell is about to sound," Brendon said. "There should be a bed for each of you. You are not permitted to leave these rooms at night except in cases of needing to use the bathroom, which can be found in the hallway right outside this room. Seriously, please don't leave for trivial purposes. We weren't this controlling until that one year when kids started wrecking havoc due to a Dauntless-born initiate. Now, we'll trust none of you until you walk and talk and laugh and squawk the path of truthfulness. Anyway, nighty-night. See you in the morning. I'll be in the room next door in case you have some sort of emergency. I remember one year, this one kid was having an allergic reaction to something in the pillow, causing himself to puff up as large as the Hulk, and then he…"

Nobody heard the rest of Brendon's story, because, by then, he had walked out of the room.

We all each chose a bed. I chose one somewhere around the middle of the room. On each bed were black pajamas. I assume there were no white pajamas because of bed wetting. After changing into our pajamas, the nonCandor-born guys put their day clothes in a basket that had been set beside the door. Supposedly, a laundry person was going to replace our clothes with Candor ones.

"I'm not even tired," I blurted out. "I mean, I'm exhausted, but I won't be able to sleep a wink tonight."

"No kidding," an Erudite transfer, Sigurd, said. "I can't wait for tomorrow. I know it sounds silly and childish, but I'm dying to know what we'll all be doing tomorrow. I mean, I know it's going to involve telling the truth, but still."

"We'll probably start tomorrow by playing Truth," Rashad, a Candor-born initiate, said. "It's like Truth or Dare, except only with Truth. My brother went through initiation a couple years ago, and said that's what everyone started with, mostly games."

"That's what Elizabeth said," Matthew blurted out. He then looked embarrassed. "I mean, I overheard her say it. I shouldn't have eavesdropped, but she talks so loudly…"

"I wouldn't blame you for listening to Elizabeth," Rashad replied. "She can speak her mind about any subject any day."

"You're just saying that because you've had a crush on her for the past three years," Warner, another Candor-born initiate, said teasingly.

Rashad laughed.

"Hey now," he said, "she's a fine lady, and I wouldn't mind it if she said yes to my date offer. Despite her anger problems, she has a big heart. Also, there aren't very many gals around who are that tall and with such a magnificent frame. Also, you can't joke about Elizabeth after Talia turned you down by insulting your favorite comic series."

Warner laughed.

"Painful!" he said. "Utterly painful!"

Rashad looked over at Sigurd.

"What?" Sigurd asked, starting to laugh. "You think I'll tell you her name?"

"Come on. I know you like someone. Tell us who she is." Rashad smiled mischievously at Sigurd.

"Okay, okay." Sigurd gave in. "My mom has this best friend, and I would play with her daughter when I was little. So, we've pretty much known each other in forever. Anyways, I stopped hanging out with her after starting middle school, because we got different friends. Then, last year, it's like she turned into some sort of divine being. She's so gorgeous, with lovely large teeth and flowing golden hair. Her eyes are like two pools of chocolate, and her laugh is like listening to a bird song."

"Did you ask her out?" Warner asked.

"Yeah…" Sigurd sighed woefully.

"She liked another guy?" Rashad asked.

"No," Sigurd replied. "She just told me I wasn't smart enough for her. I think she's sapiosexual. I mean, of course she would be! She chose to stay in Erudite at the Choosing!"

"Are all Erudites like that?" I asked, somewhat weirded out.

"Maybe." Sigurd shrugged his shoulders. "I can't understand them sometimes, even though I've lived with them for so long. I like the idea of learning as much as possible, but the snobbery they have is just too overwhelming. Also, almost everyone, even the 20-20 folks, wear glasses. Why wear glasses when you don't need them? For smart people, they do dumb stuff."

"It's an unnecessary adornment," Matthew said, "meant to draw attention to oneself."

"Speaking of drawing attention," Rashad said, "you're certainly the quiet one."

"Not really." Matthew shrugged. "I was always chattier than any Abnegation child should be."

"That, and your hair," I said. "Any other ways you were different?"

"I accidentally tripped on the way up to the Torah on my bar mitzvah. None of the other boys tripped. I guess I trip a lot during important events, which draws a lot of attention to myself."

"Other boys?" Warner asked. "A lot of boys come of age at the same time in Abnegation?"

"No," Matthew replied. "We just get our ceremonies done at the same time, to draw the least amount of attention to ourselves."

"Amity was like that," I said. "The main difference, though, was that we did it to get a sense of community, not to draw away attention. At the Amity church, babies get dedicated in groups. I was dedicated with my sister, even though she's a couple of years older than me."

Matthew said, "Amity sounds wonderful. If the community was so tight-knit, though, why'd you leave it? Was it too tight-knit, without privacy?"

"No," I replied. "It's… something personal."

"Well, you're in the right place for personal," Sigurd said. "Spill the beans, brother."

"If I'd stayed in Amity," I said, "I would have to be in the same community as my family, and they haven't always been there for me."

"Wasn't anyone in your family nice?" Rashad asked.

"My mother was, but she was a push-over," I answered. "She was the sweetest lady around, but she let my father punish me over silly things. I remember getting spanked hard for telling someone I didn't enjoy her singing voice. Whippoorwill always sided with my father. It became apparent that most everybody in Amity disapproved of my father, but they didn't seem to want to do anything any time soon. They're too nice to punish cruel people."

"Politely saying you don't like someone's singing voice is not good grounds for spanking a child," Rashad said. "I mean, if the child is a total brat and has been told several times to stop screaming in the store, that's different. I remember my mom giving me several swats in one day for throwing tantrums in public."

"Candor parents spank their kids in public?" Sigurd looked shocked.

"They've got no reason to hide the fact that they discipline their kids." Rashad shrugged.

"Do the abusive parents hide how they punish their kids?" Sigurd asked. "I mean, my aunt and uncle would have never confessed beating their kids. It took people years to figure that out, and only after the kids left Erudite and told everyone."

"I like to think they don't," Warner said. "Of course, there are bad apples in Candor. We call them the Fibbers. Thanks to them, the Candor community still has problems."

"I think back in Abnegation there was at least one case of abusive parenting," Matthew muttered. "Not even the kid blurted it out, but, somehow the word spread. The abuser though was an important member of the community, though, so people didn't pay much attention to the scandal. Oh, which one was it? He was one of the really high up there guys…"

We all stayed up late talking. Our subjects of conversation ranged from personal anecdotes to science to fuzzy slippers to Abnegation girls who try to look plain and unattractive but it just doesn't work to different shades of the color blue to teddy bears.

Eventually, though, our conversation grew quiet, and we lay back in our beds, our eyelids drooping down.

Someone turned off the light.

That's when we finally fell asleep, recharging for tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2: Truthful Chatter

"You look good in your new clothes," Alexandra said.

"Looks good?" Elizabeth said. "He looks hot!"

I blushed, chewing my black rye bread toast with white butter. Breakfast had never been so awkward before- it's hard getting used to people telling you what's on their minds.

Elizabeth looked at Matthew, who was eating white flake cereal with raisins.

"You match Lennon," she said, tugging at the sleeve of his white sweater. "Cute."

It was Matthew's turn to blush. I'm certain he's never been flirted at before this very moment. Certainly none of the girls in Abnegation fancied him- they were too busy sighing over that Caleb individual he spoke about.

"Are you always this open about your feelings?" I asked.

"If you've got something worth saying," Elizabeth said, probably quoting some ancient Candor proverb, "just say it."

Alexandra said, "Of course, I wouldn't want to be mean…"

"Then you shouldn't have chosen Candor!" Elizabeth took a bite into her white English muffin emphatically. "We haven't got the time for dishonest people."

"That's not what I was implying," Alexandra answered. "I want to be honest, just not viciously, like how you spoke to me just now."

"I don't care. Just remember, if you don't learn to fit into the mold here, you'll end up factionless, and you know how bad that is."

I had visions in my head of being factionless, homeless, unloved. I imagined it was a fate worse than death.

Just then, I heard the sound of a small crash go through the cafeteria.

"You knocked down my tray!" one boy said to another.

"What you gonna do about it?" the other boy replied. "Tell your momma?"

The first boy pushed the second one. Before they could get into a serious fight, though, they were broken up by the people near them.

"Who are they?" Alexandra asked.

"The victim this time is Harvey," Elizabeth answered. "The douche who knocked down Harvey's tray is Peter Hayes. He's always treating people like crap."

"He's a bully?" I asked.

"Mm-hm." Elizabeth nodded. "At Candor, everyone hates him. At school, though, he gets away with doing rotten things because he lies and blames other folks. No one suspects he's lying because he's an 'honest Candor boy'. Thank goodness his time to Choose is next year! There's always that wonderful chance that he'll transfer!"

Looking back at Peter, I noticed Jack Kang advancing towards him.

"How many times have I told you to behave like a normal person?!" Jack scolded. "Now, look what you've done? Have you any shame?"

"Jack is Peter's godfather," Elizabeth explained. "It's been hard on both of them since a couple years ago when Peter's parents died."

Matthew said, "Was that when Peter started acting awful?"

"He's always been like that, ever since I can remember," Elizabeth said. "In case you're wondering, though, he got truly awful after his parents' deaths."

Sally walked over to us.

"You seem to be the last initiates to finish your food," she said as if that was the most wonderful thing ever. "Hurry up, because your initiate training is about to officially begin."

We scarfed down the rest of our food, then followed her and the other initiates out of the cafeteria through the hallways and into a white room. There was no furniture- just white walls, a white floor, and a white ceiling.

"Sit down in a circle!" Sally said, clapping her hands together. "We're going to all play a rivoting game of Truth!"

At first, I thought Truth would be simple- it was just talking about yourself. The questions, though, were what got my heart pumping anxiously. Initiates were asked questions about their psychological state, about the cruelest things they've ever done, about their sexualities, about what they think of their barrack mates.

"Lennon," Sally said, "you haven't answered a question yet. Tell me, what was the most awkward part about puberty for you?"

"Um…" I felt myself choking on my breath. "Could you repeat that question?"

"What was the most awkward part about puberty for you?"

I tensed up. My palms became sweaty. I started to shiver a bit.

I answered, "Probably the body hair. I didn't want people to know about it. It made taking off my shirt in public really embarrassing. Once, my mother accidentally walked into my room while I was changing. She later commented on how I must have gotten my hair from her father, because mine was 'relatively babyish and would barely need to manscape'."

Some of my fellow initiates laughed. I felt extremely embarrassed.

Matthew's turn to be asked a question was next.

Sally asked, "What is an unhealthy outlet you've participated in under stress or during depression."

Matthew was quiet for a moment. He then rolled up his sleeves, exposing cut marks all over his arms.

"I didn't fit in at Abnegation," he said. "I loved doing community service, helping others. Let's just say, though, that I wasn't completely altruistic. I wanted to be myself, and to express myself in an honest manner. The pressure to be selfless was too much, so I had to find a quick way to relieve tension."

Rashad muttered, "He's a flat-out cutter…"

"Mom wanted me to stay in Abnegation, claiming selflessness comes with maturity," Matthew continued. "Momma, though, told me that I could be selfless and helpful in a place where I'll be accepted. She suggested I either go to Candor or Amity."

Sally's eyes got round with shock- no, not shock, just surprise.

"Parents aren't allowed to interfere with their children's faction choices," she said.

"This was long before I took the aptitude test." Matthew shrugged his shoulders. "I thought it was a good idea, and, in the end, it was still my choice."

"Alexandra," Sally said, "could you tell me in what way you still act like a small child?"

Alexandra thought, then answered, "I really wish I had Gertie with my right now. Gertie is a doll I've had since I can remember, and she's always been there for me. My mother's been telling me for years that I'm too old for her, but that never really stopped me… until now."

A couple initiates laughed.

"Please don't mock my love for Gertie," Alexandra said. "If we're being honest, I might as well tell you that I felt closer to Gertie than I ever felt for anyone else. I remember times when she was my only friend."

"Your only friend so happens to be an inanimate object," Elizabeth said. "That's extremely pitiful. Are you sure you don't need psychological help?"

"If I need help, then so does Matthew," Alexandra replied. "I'm not schizophrenic or anything- that doll has never spoken aloud to me. I'm sure that now I'll learn how to be around real people, though. It's hard being forced to stay at home except during school hours. I recall telling my mother about a conversation I had, and she told me to keep my mouth shut and don't speak unless asked a question by a teacher."

Elizabeth was quiet for a moment, then said, "I'm sorry to hear that. I can't imagine what that must be like."

"You feel sorry for someone?" Warner asked. "That's a first."

Elizabeth shot him the death glare. I guess, since this was Candor, Warner wasn't being sarcastic, and had truly offended Elizabeth.

After a few more questions for other initiates, Sally asked Sigurd a question.

She said, "Since you came from Erudite, you should have some knowledge surrounding this question. What is your opinion of Divergent people?"

Sigurd replied, "Personally, I believe they're real. And, despite what other believers say, they aren't that rare. With how much she hates them and wants them eliminated, I'm certain Erudite leader Jeanine Matthews herself is Divergent. She's just insecure, and wants to 'prove' to everyone that she's 'normal'."

Everyone was silent.

"Is that all?" Sally asked. "That was certainly a nontraditional response. I like it. Elizabeth, it's your turn to answer a question. Do you eat anything that other people would consider gross, and what is it?"

Elizabeth laughed, then replied, "I put molasses over my asparagus, and sometimes put it in a milkshake. It's really good."

"Ewww!" someone said.

"I feel ready to puke!" another added.

"It's certainly not something I would choose to eat," Sally said, "but I bet it's worth a try. Everything you do in life should be an adventure, correct?"

All of the initiates got asked questions several times. It was humiliating. Until then, I had no idea how many secrets and private, personal things I'd kept to myself all these years. I never knew I could blush so much in one day.

After Truth came lunchtime. Most of us initiates were quiet during lunch- we felt like we'd already talked far too much about ourselves, and didn't feel cruel enough to listen to each other's perspectives on even simple things like whether white bread tastes as good as wheat.

Of course, there was that awful Peter kid in the cafeteria. He walked towards us, and decided to introduce his wonderful, inhumane cruelty to the transfers.

"I heard one of you is a Stiff," was the first thing he said. "Which one is it?"

"Shut up, Peter," Elizabeth said. "No one wants to talk to you."

Peter raised an eyebrow.

"How are you so sure about that?" he asked. "Lots of people talk to me."

"Yeah, to tell you to behave yourself." Elizabeth took a bite of her mashed potatoes. "Can't you just leave? Just, go, and don't come back till next year when you Choose."

Despite his obviously horrid reputation, and despite the need for honesty, there were other ways Elizabeth could have worded her response to Peter. I began to feel some of my Amity upbringing and personality kicking in.

"Elizabeth," I said, "he might be terrible, but at least you can talk with respect. Peter, you're not brightening any of our moods. Could you please leave?"

Peter looked shocked. Maybe he wasn't used to hearing the word "please". Whatever the reason, he was dumbfounded for a second. I don't think he even noticed me before I spoke.

He then said, "What's your name?"

"Lennon," I replied. "And, before you say it, I realize it's a weird name. Just go with the flow. If you want to call me something else, I suppose you can, as long as you don't call me Porky or Muddy Gloves."

Peter looked like he was about to laugh. He quickly maintained a stoic countenance, though.

"Well, I can call you Crapper if I want to," he said. "You won't tell me what names I can give to anybody."

He looked towards a table in the far corner of the cafeteria, and started to walk way.

Looking back for a bit, though, he said, "It was nice meeting you… Lennon."

Once he was far away from our table, Rashad said, "I don't think I've ever heard him say something so pleasant or nice, except to suck up to a teacher."

Warner added, "Still, we probably don't deserve him saying nice things. We're never nice to him, and for a good reason."

Alexandra said, "I bet he's nice, somewhere deep down inside. Most people are."

"Mm-mm," Elizabeth said, shaking her head. "He's a turdbag if I ever did see one. There isn't a single nice bone in his body. You see those folks he's now sitting with at that table? Those are Drew and Molly. Drew is just rude and a bully, but Molly, billy oh!, she's a total sadist! I bet she'd be willing to have a job as a dominatrix, she loves beating people up so much."

"What's a dominatrix?" Matthew asked.

That got Elizabeth into talking about some very shocking subjects that only someone from Candor would dare speak of in public. To be honest, it was disgusting.

After lunch, Sally took us into a room where several people were waiting for us. She was going to teach us how to detect lies just by looking at the person speaking.

The first person in the room was asked a question, and she answered with a lie. Sally pointed out the answerer's lack of eye contact, as well as declarative repetition of the question, and certain other social cues found among liars.

The next person told a truth, and Sally pointed out this person's air of confidence, as well as their need for less embellishment and overall lack of guilty fear.

Of course, this wasn't as interesting as truth, so I feel no need to talk about this. If you want to learn more about our lie detecting that afternoon, find someone really boring who was there. They could talk for hours about Lie Theory and the Deplorable Yet Unmistakable Mask of Deception, yada yada yada.

Somewhere after this, we were told to intermingle in the Social Room, and we were to be supervised and made sure we talked honestly with as many people as possible.

Somewhere in the middle of the mingling, Matthew, Sigurd, and I headed to the restroom, having not gone since that morning. (Sorry about the TMI, but, when you've been with Candor for so long, you simply start talking like them).

The restroom floors and walls were made of black and white tiles (but you guessed that already, didn't you?), and the stall walls were in zebra print. Seriously, those stalls looked extremely stupid, but they were so incredibly clean.

Sigurd mentioned, though, that in Erudite, each restroom stall has a microscope in it to see how many germs are on the toilet you're about to use.

That thought was a bit too discomforting.

Flushing the toilet, though, was like breaking the sound barrier. You just push a button, and WHOOSH!, your ear drums almost burst, and that ringing sound won't stop until you've finished washing your hands five times.

"Today has been rather long," Matthew said. "It's been longer than the time Mom tried to teach me to sew, and I kept poking my fingers every time I put the needle through the fabric. That was one long, depressing day."

"This day has been long," Sigurd agreed. "It's longer than the time my mom took me to watch a chess championship. I fell asleep right in the middle, and I think I might have drooled on my lap."

"This day was the longest I've ever been through," I said. "It's longer than the time I sat through that one concert where most of the songs were sung by the same person and were about falling in love while on a cloud or in a castle or something."

"It's been kind of fun, though," Matthew said. "I mean, I feel kind of relieved to have said so much about myself, after years of being told to not draw attention."

"It's been relieving," Sigurd said, "to not have to talk intellectually, for once. Today, I was able to just be myself and speak freely."

"It was a blessing," I said, "to be able to be honest and not have to walk on eggshells worrying about whether or not I'd hurt someone's feelings."

We all agreed it had been a good day.


	3. Chapter 3: Simply More Truths

After a few days of playing Truth and Lie Detecting and Make Your Social Life Awkward, we were made to go under simulations to test our honesty. Before that, though, I went through a slight mental and emotional problem.

For some odd reason, I just started to get into a foul mood, and couldn't help but speak harshly to everyone. Sometimes, I would get pounding headaches, and undergo anxiety attacks. Sally got horrendously concerned (being the caring and kind lady she is [I mean, she ironed our socks every evening as a sign of devotion to the initiates]), and took me to the hospital part of the city. She made me wait in a waiting room to talk to a counselor.

The counselor was an Amity lady. I recognized her, though I never knew her personally.

She recognized me, also.

"Why, hello, Lennon," she said. "When I didn't see you at church after the Choosing Ceremony, I quickly figured that meant you transferred factions."

How on earth did she find out my name? I didn't quite know hers… Cary? Clary? Cassandra?

"What's your name?" I asked. "Sorry, but after sixteen years of living in the same community, I never quite learned what you were called."

She smiled kindly.

"My name is Katie," she said. "Anyway, have a seat."

I sat down in a chair, and she sat down in a chair in front of me.

"Your initiation caretaker has told me you've been experiencing random spouts of anger and stress," she said. "Is this a new sensation for you?"

"Pretty much," I said. "I don't know what's happened. Normally, I'm pretty laid-back. I guess it's made everyone uncomfortable, because Sally sent me here. I don't want to be here. Actually, to be honest, I want to estivate and sleep it all through."

"Have you stopped consuming anything you normally eat or drink?"

"Not necessarily. Lately, I've been trying to stick to the black food instead of that awful, bleached white stuff. I need my nutrients. Also, I've never been on prescription meds, so I can't be missing them. Maybe it's just that I'm in a new setting, that's all."

Katie seemed to be thinking about something.

Finally, she said, "I think you're going through withdrawals, and, due to the chemical imbalances, it must be related to drugs."

"Drugs?" I asked. "Like, the illegal stuff? Like crack and heroine and snort-your-nose-out and pot and stuff like that? Goodness, no! I'm sober!"

"Peace Serum is a drug, technically, though perfectly legal."

"What?"

"All of the bread in Amity is laced with Peace Serum. You left Amity, so now you're going through withdrawals from the Peace Serum."

"That… makes sense. I forgot about the bread."

Katie gave me suggestions on how to deal with the withdrawals.

Finally, she said, "I know you're not Amity anymore, but, if all else fails, remember the ways you were raised to act. What would everyone back in your old faction think if they saw you playing the part of Oscar the Grouch? Often, the way we've been raised to see the world is how we'll view things the rest of our lives. Remember what it was like living in Amity."

After some more advice and good ideas for not being the crankiest of initiates, she told me I could leave. I thanked her, and walked out the door.

When I arrived back in Candor, (I confess to have dawdled some along the way, watching the birds and kicking at patches of grass in the sidewalk), the other initiates were all wondering what had happened while I was gone.

"Sally said she took you to a counselor," Alexandra said. "What did the counselor say? Do you have a mental illness?"

"She just says I'm going through withdrawals," I answered. "My body is used to the Amity Peace Serum, and I haven't been consuming it since I came to Candor."

"What's the Peace Serum?" Rashad asked. "Does it make you more peaceful? Why would people who are already peaceful want something that makes them even more peaceful?"

I started to feel irritated by the questions. Why couldn't they just look at the obvious and be content with those answers? Also, why on earth were they crowding around me? They only left me three cubits of space! It's like they were trying to crush me with their weight, as if they were evil clowns, or something.

"Lennon?" Matthew said. "Are you okay?"

"Shut up, Matthew!" I exclaimed, trying not to sound too harsh. That turned out to be quite a chore, since I was feeling fatigued and stressed, and really wanted to just sit down and eat ice cream. I wanted to be comfortable, and this moment was not my most comfortable.

"Everybody, just please move!" I tried to inch my way through everyone. "Sally, I'm not feeling well. Could I please go to the barracks?"

"Well, we have plenty more to do…" she started to say.

"I realize that, Sally!" I felt an angry heat rise up into my head. "There's always so much to do, even though it's mostly the same stupid dumb stuff! Before I rip out someone's hair, though, could I please just isolate myself?!"

I tried to remember what Katie had told me to do.

So I tried to think of what it would be like being in everyone else's shoes, how hard it must be for Sally to make sure all of the initiates learn the rules of her society, how uncomfortable I made the other initiates feel, and how stupid I must look to everyone.

"I'll do what you tell me I have to do…" I muttered.

Stupid, dumb Peace Serum. Now look at the trouble it has gotten me into! If I'd just been raised on a more sober diet, I wouldn't be like this, talking rudely to everyone and hoping they'd just all die in a hole. I would be nicer, and would have something pleasanter to look back upon when I think of these platinum days of golden glee and tearfulness.

I learned how to deal with my newfound frustration, though. I kept my mouth shut when I was angry, and would sometimes squeeze my eyes shut, also. If an initiate asked me a question or made a casual comment, and I didn't reply, she or he figured out I was not emotionally capable of answering at the moment.

A few days after my counseling session, it was time for initiates to start going through simulations. Of course, I was nervous about this… and stressed. What sort of situations would go on in the simulations? My guess was that it would be like a more technologically advanced version of Truth, with Lie Detecting thrown on the side.

The first day with simulations, right after breakfast, all of the initiates were led to a room with a chair similar to the ones from the aptitude test. Next to the chair was a screen.

"While in the simulation," Sally said, "your thoughts will be transmitted onto this screen. Therefore, everyone will see what you're thinking."

Standing by the chair was a young lady, who only looked a year or so older than me. Other than her shiny black hair, the first thing I noticed about her was that her skin was a reddish-brown color. I'd never seen skin like that before. During the summer, I would turn yellowish-brown, but reddish-brown? I wondered if her skin was naturally that way. I guessed so, since a Candor person wouldn't lie about something such as physical appearance.

I noticed how Matthew looked at the young lady. I agreed, she was fine looking, but that was the end of that. People are either aesthetically pleasing or aesthetically not pleasing- that's how things are. But Matthew seemed to think, to feel, differently.

He whispered in my ear, "She's hot."

Hot? Is that a word a former Abnegation person would use? I guess slang attacks and assimilates all but the mentally gated. Still, I would have expected Matthew to use more mature slang, rather than such junior high (not to mention uncouth and, to many, rude) terminology.

"Secrets don't make friends," Elizabeth said, quoting what appeared to be an ancient Candor proverb. "If you have something to say, blurt it out."

Matthew blushed. (Seriously, Candor initiation caused him and me to blush so much that some folks started calling us the "pink faced guys").

"Everyone," Sally said, indicating the young lady, "this here is Ella. She will be assisting me with the simulations parts of your initiation. Also, because I feel so guilty using needles of people, she will be the one doing the serum injections."

Everyone had a chance to lie in the chair and get injected with the simulation serum. We all watched the screen, and observed the "honesty landscapes".

Elizabeth was put in a situation where she had to admit to breaking something. She handled it with ease, and, frightening enough, had no look of guilt on her face as she confessed.

Alexandra had to confess to her mother that she failed an exam. Tears were streaming down her face, and her body lying in the chair started to shake. It was disturbing.

Matthew was in a dilemma- either tell on a friend who did something morally wrong, or keep his mouth shut. Of course, he had to tattle.

Sigurd's landscape was of him telling someone he hated how he felt about them. That was hard to watch, because the person he spoke to had a horrified look on her face. Even though she wasn't real, I felt sorry for her.

When my turn came, I lay down in the chair, feeling nervous.

I must have looked the part, because Ella said, "Don't worry. Even if your first time doesn't go well, you'll soon enjoy these simulations."

The needle was injected into me, and that's when everything around me changed.

I saw myself back at my old home in Amity. Whippoorwill was sitting on the sofa next to my mother, both of whom looked apprehensive. I was standing in front of my father, who was scolding me.

"How many times," he was yelling, "have I told you to shut up?! And, how many times have you disobeyed and gone and insulted somebody?! You are the rudest child imaginable, and everything you say embarrasses me!"

"I'm sorry, Dad!" I hollered back. "It was an accident; I wasn't trying to be rude!"

Wait a second? How could I know what I did wrong? This wasn't real. It was just a simulation! Still, I felt frightened to my core.

My father reached for a wooden spoon that was on the arm of a rocking chair.

"Ever since you were younger," he said, "you've insulted people, and you've been a total weirdo! What child in their right mind talks about loving literature class? During parent-teacher conferences last week, your teacher proudly told me how much you liked _Jane Eyre _because of how openly it depicts economic and social struggles. She thought you were insightful, but I think you're an impudent brat! Turn around!"

He raised the wooden spoon.

I was about to turn around to let him spank me, but I didn't. What right did he have to punish me? What had I done to deserve being chastised?

"No," I said.

"What did you say?!" My father looked furious.

I replied, "You will not punish me for something so trivial as the words that come out of my mouth. I try so hard, every single day, to please you, just so I won't feel the sting of that spoon. Even if I wasn't too old for spankings, the way you do it is entirely inappropriate."

"How so? Aren't I your father, who should punish you however I so choose?"

"A spanking is supposed to be on the butt, but you often miss and hit me on the shoulders and back. You _beat _me, and I often get marks on my skin from those 'spankings', those 'righteous punishments'."

My father looked ready to strike me.

I then said, "If you dare lay another finger on me, I will get the police involved in this, which will cause an uproar in this otherwise peaceful community. Nobody respects you, anyway, so they won't be surprised that your scandal will finally be made a legal matter."

As if to test my honesty further, the simulation had my father slap me across the face.

So I ran. I ran out of the house, and towards the gates that were near Amity.

I stopped running when I came to one of the gate's Dauntless guards.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, surprised that there would be a need for him in Amity.

For a second, I wondered if I should tell on my father. I mean, I was his son, therefore giving him the right to treat me however he so desired. But, didn't I also have my rights? Shouldn't I be allowed to live a life where I was safe from verbal and physical abuse?

"My father," I said, gasping for breath from all the running, "is beating me. I threatened to get police intervention."

It was all too quick. Soon enough, my father was in handcuffs, and the Dauntless man took him into town for evaluation.

And I was angry. Angry at my father for treating me that way. Angry at my mother and Whippoorwill for allowing him to treat me that way for so long.

And angry at Amity for not doing anything about the problem in the first place, for idly standing by.

The simulation ended. I felt shaken, and intensely disturbed. Before I knew it, silent tears were streaming down my face. Getting up from the chair, I walked over to where the rest of the initiates were standing.

Alexandra walked over to me, and grabbed my hand.

"It's okay, Lennon," she muttered soothingly. "You're away from that situation now."

I glared at Ella.

"How on earth are these enjoyable?" I inquired crossly.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe my honesty doesn't have as many consequences," she replied.

I rolled my eyes. Where is that Peace Serum when you need it? I felt a strong desire to bite off Van Gogh's ear, or something.

But Ella was right. I got used to the simulations fairly easily. It helped to remember that they weren't real situations at all, just fake ones hallucinogenically induced.

Later, I began to feel guilty about speaking so angrily to Ella. She was so friendly. I would see her every Sunday at church. And, since I knew barely anyone at Candor, I would normally sit with her. She didn't mind, since she really didn't have anyone specific to sit with.

Alexandra started attending the Candor church after a few weeks. She sat with Ella and me.

"I really like coming here," she said after worship service one day. "Back in Erudite, most people are atheists. At least, my parents were, and they didn't think it was a wise idea to let me get involved with people who believe in God. But here, people are so open about what they believe, and no one's ashamed to follow those beliefs."

Sermons in Candor were rather different from those in Amity. For one, they were much more open and direct. (It's no wonder it said in big writing on the wall behind the pulpit, "You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.") The Candor preacher was not afraid to discuss controversial topics, such as Hell and homosexuality and henotheism. In Amity, the preacher would sometimes try to sugarcoat things, talking more about Heaven and healing and hallowed days.

I remember that one Sunday, when the preacher was discussing the joy we have in Jesus, and how our joy contrasts with the emptiness found in the rest of the world.

"You may think you can fill that void," she said to the congregation, "but you certainly can't. True joy and true love only come from God and the acceptance of the salvation which comes through Him. You may wonder why your life feels so meaningless, why you aren't where you want to be in the scheme of things. Your nihilism comes from a complete lack of Christ. Christ is the one who gives us a reason to go onwards."

Alexandra was terrified of meeting the preacher.

"I don't think she'll like me," she said. "I mean, it's not like I'm religious, or anything like that."

"She likes almost everyone," Ella said reassuringly. "She may be brutally honest, but she is in no way judgmental."

After the service with the sermon about joy found in Jesus, Alexandra and I met the preacher. She was walked down the aisle to walk out of the building, when she stopped and stared.

"You two are initiates, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered.

"My name is Keysia," she said. "You probably know that already, though."

"Actually," I answered. "I know of you as the preacher, that's all."

Keysia laughed.

"What are your names?" she asked.

"I'm Lennon."

Alexandra was quiet, but then said, "I'm Alexandra."

Poor Alexandra. She was so scared of being judged. Keysia sensed that.

"Have either of you gone to church much?" she asked.

I answered, "Back in my old faction, I went to church. This church is very different, though."

Alexandra was still quiet, but eventually answered, "Before coming to this one, I've never been to church."

"Do you have a religion or faith at all?" Keysia inquired.

"No," Alexandra said. "I wish I knew what to believe, but the truth isn't always black and white."

"It just doesn't look black and white, when it truly is," Keysia said. "If you just learn more about everything, you'll have a clearer picture of the truth."

Alexandra was happy to know that she wouldn't be viewed as "that devilish, sinning nonreligious girl". It makes me wonder what sort of ridicule she's experienced in the past to be so scared of being looked down upon.

I would sometimes go with Matthew to the synagogue. There was only one synagogue in the city, and it was in the Abnegation section. We would have to get passes from Sally every Saturday, as it wasn't normal for initiates to leave the home area of their factions.

Jews from all over the city would come to this synagogue, and, in order not to offend Abnegationers who attended (and, despite the faction diversity, made up the majority of the congregation), would wear gray clothes specifically on the Sabbath. The first time I went with Matthew, he led me to the house where his mothers lived, and we took clothes out of the dresser of what used to be his room. Until I got back to Candor, I never got to quite see what I looked like in Abnegation garb, due to the strict rules concerning mirrors in that faction.

Dov, the rabbi, was just as friendly and nonjudgmental as Keysia, though in a way that made him as inconspicuous as possible. Seriously, I wouldn't have recognized him in a crowd. He would have been some gray blob, like an amoeba living in dental gums with chewed-up spinach. But, as I've said, he was friendly, and was not appalled that my beliefs were different from his.

Of course, reading in Hebrew was a bit of a challenge, at first. Thankfully, some of the prayer books had transliterations. Pretty soon, though, I was able to read the strange, foreign letters. It was like the words were dancing off of my tongue, as if they were in a clandestine, mystical language that only a few elect could understand. Of course, I knew this wasn't true; it was merely my imagination getting to me.

Erudites who attending the synagogue would often speak about their fear of getting caught. If it was found out by the Erudite leaders that they were attending the synagogue in Abnegation (added to that, dressing as if they were apart of Abnegation), they could possibly end up becoming factionless as punishment. They were surprisingly trustful of the Candor congregants, whom they knew would have to tell the truth if asked about the other congregants. So far, no problems had been caused. They must have been extremely comfortable and problem-free to let me in.

It surprised me how people simply don't act the way our teachers at school said they act. Since everyone was young, we've all been taught about the factions and how they define how we act. Looking at the facts, though, I see that isn't true. Amity aren't always peaceful. Erudite sometimes masquerade as Abnegation. Aptitude test results are unclear and indecisive. Faction doesn't come before blood; in fact, it often comes before almost nothing.

And I'm starting to be convinced that Candor, even if it's just in omission, lies.


	4. Chapter 4: Jack Brought to Light, & More

One day, I was invited over to Jack Kang's house. I was to arrive there after dinner. It was during a day in which I had gone through a particularly stressful simulation, as well as an all-too-honest game of Truth.

But, after I ate my white noodles with pepper, I walked out of the Merciless Mart and towards Jack's house in the Candor neighborhood. All the way there, I wondered why he would invite me of all people over. Seriously, it's not like we were formally acquainted, anyway. Maybe I'd done something extremely unCandorish, and was going to be threatened with factionlessness, or worse, public pantsing.

Anyway, upon arriving there, he friendlily welcomed me into the parlor. Seating me upon the davenport, he asked if I would like some tea. Feeling a bit sick from the peppered noodles, I asked if he had any chamomile, which he replied in the affirmative.

After fetching the tea, he sat down in an armchair.

"So," he said, grinning quirkily, "you're the Lennon I heard about. Lennon Kang. You may be wondering why I invited you over."

"Of course I'm wondering," I answered. "I mean, I don't seem like the sort you would ask to go fly fishing or cow tipping with."

He laughed.

"Lennon," he said, "what are your parents' names?"

I answered, "Harry and Fannie Kang. Why?"

These didn't seem the sort of questions one would ask a guest upon first arriving.

"Harry Kang is my brother," Jack said.

I was quiet for a moment.

I then asked, "So, you're my uncle?"

Jack laughed again, but this time in a somewhat nervous manner.

"No, Lennon," he said. "It's a long story. You see, your dad wasn't the best of husbands to your mom."

Which would explain her utter subservience. I should have figured out by now that her quietness wasn't natural.

"So she often would look towards other men for help, to back her up when your dad was acting cruelly towards her."

Logical enough. Men oftentimes give in to peer pressure from other men.

"Eventually, she found out he had a brother, which was me. She wanted me to speak to him, knowing that I would be brutally honest, and knowing that he had somewhat of a soft spot for relatives, despite the 'faction before blood rule'."

Cool story. When's the climax?

"After a while, she and I started to get interested in each other. We would meet together, and have dinner and go to the park together. When it got truly over the deep end, though, we ended up copulating. That's when I decided it was not right to be in a relationship with my sister-in-law. Therefore, I cut off all contact with her."

That's awkward. I never realized there was so much sin going on in my family. Still, it's not surprising. They never were the most honest bunch.

"Last week, though, she called me up on the telephone. She told me about our child. She knew all along it was mine, because her husband had been working the past couple of months on a farming project and was to busy to spend time with her. When she told me… I felt shocked. I was angry that she'd never told me before, and that I'd lost sixteen years to raise… my son."

I felt a shiver go down me. Wait? Does this mean…

"Lennon… You're my son."

Jack smiled sadly, but with a look of contentment.

"I'm so sorry. I wish I had known. If I'd been there for you, I could have… But the past is in the past. I'll give you time to think about it. I know I had to take a few days to think about being a father."

Since he'd started telling the story, I hadn't spoken.

Finally, I said, "Jack, I don't know what to say. This is quite a surprise, and I don't know whether I am happy or disturbed."

"You don't have to be happy," Jack said. "I would understand if you were angry."

"No," I said. "I'm not angry, at least not yet. Did you seriously not learn about this until last week?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"If you didn't learn it till now," he said, "it shouldn't come as a surprise to you that I also learned it so recently."

Leading out of the parlor we were sitting in was a flight of stairs. Walking down the flight of stairs was Peter. He looked surprised, and in some state of wonder, to see me there.

"Oh, um…" he started to say. "Hey, Lennon. What're you doing here?"

"Apparently," I said, "I have family here in Candor."

"Really?" Peter looked confused, as if he was trying to remember something. Finally it dawned on him. "Oh, I now recall! Jack was telling me about that…"

I looked at the clock over the armchair.

"I must get going," I said. "It will be dark out soon, and I don't want to be caught by the thieves or the muggers or the murderers…"

"Thank you for visiting," Jack said. "I hope the information wasn't too much."

I tried to smile. I know it must have been awkward for Jack, but it felt like my whole little world had been turned around and shaken beneath my feet. I wasn't sure I wanted to accept him as my father, after finding it so hard for so long to accept the man who raised me back in Amity.

"Don't worry," I said. "You did the honest thing. Be happy that you finally learned the truth. I wish my mother hadn't been so secretive, but… she never seemed like a happy woman, anyway. Unhappy people tend to keep many secrets."

I left Jack Kang's house. As I walked towards the Merciless Mart, though, I heard someone calling my name. I turned around to see Peter running towards me.

"Can I walk with you to the Mart?" he asked.

"Why not?" I answered. "Are you meeting up with friends there?"

Peter shrugged. He looked at me, as if I was a strange and exotic creature. Maybe this is what it feels like to live in the zoo, being stared at and viewed as different. Still, there was something tender about his gazing.

He nervously tried to make conversation.

"So," he said, "you… like the food here?"

I laughed.

"Goodness, Pete," I said. "The food's just as okay as in any other place."

"Pete?" he stared some more. "I like that."

"Then I guess I can call you that. It'll be my nickname for you. I always thought it wasn't a very elegant name, but there's something different about it when I call you that."

"Pete… I like being called Pete…"

"Elizabeth has told me a lot about you."

Peter scowled at this, and looked seriously upset.

"What?" I asked. I expected a Candor boy would be used to criticism. Maybe, though, he just had hoped I wouldn't have heard any of it…

"It's just that… just that…" he started to say. "Oh, bother. Do they have to tell you everything?"

"The people here are just trying to be honest."

"I don't care. It's their fault I'm so hated."

"Maybe if you were simply nicer to people, they would like you more."

"Nah. They'll always hate me. No one will ever forgive me."

"It's that attitude that gets you to doing more and more bad things. You start thinking you have nothing to lose, when, in fact, you might have a few redeemable qualities left."

He looked at me with pitiful eyes.

"Do you really think I have redeemable qualities?" he asked.

"Don't give me that look. It feels extremely manipulative. And, yes, I bet you do have redeemable qualities."

He looked pensive for a moment.

Oh, dear. What's he going to say to me now? I had a feeling that he was wanting something. Why else would he be walking with me to the Merciless Mart? Anyone like him would only hang out and about with those who can give him something.

"I like your T-shirt."

It was my turn to stare at him.

"What?" I asked. "You like my T-shirt?"

"The black designs on the white background look cool. They look good on you."

"Wait… Are you starting to…?"

"No!"

He blushed beat red.

"Peter…"

"Call me Pete, please."

"No, Peter. I can't give you a nickname if it makes you feel special to me. You're obviously flirting, but you want to keep what's going on in your head on the down low."

He was quiet.

By then, we had reached the Merciless Mart. We both stopped before walking in.

"You know," I said, "you are the most dishonest Candorian I have ever seen. So far, within the past few weeks of being here, if I turned someone on, they told me. You, on the other hand, are trying to ease your way into telling the truth."

"It's not like that," he said, crossly. "I just… I just…"

"Are you scared I'll turn you down?"

"Um… Yes."

"Well, I hereby turn you down."

"W-why? Am I ugly?"

"It's not that. I mean, you're adorable in your own way. I just don't find you attractive in the sort of way you hope I do. Added to that, I really don't know or trust you well enough to get involved. And, more so added to that, I don't feel like it'd be morally right for me to get involved with another guy."

"What do morals have to do with it?"

"For me, everything. I use morals everyday, and it's helped keep me from turning into some crazy frog drowning in sin. I have a compass to guide me, thanks to morals. My morals may be different from other people's, but they still sure do help me."

Peter was looking down at his feet.

"I just though… you know…" He stuttered. "I-I w-w-was thinking… you l-liked m-m-me."

"Why?"

"Y-you were n-nice to m-m-me th-that one day."

"That's called being a nice person. You don't have to have the hots for someone to be nice to them."

I truly felt sorry for Peter. It must be hard to have your heart broken by somebody who'd given you hope in your forever lonely and single existence. Even more so, it must be hard not to understand when someone shows you the slightest bit of kindness, when someone treats you as a person rather than Cruella de Ville.

"Peter? Wanna go get ice cream?"

"Why? I assume you're gonna say this isn't a date."

"Of course it isn't a date. It's just two people getting dessert together. Come on. It'll be fun. I remember going to get dessert with my classmates back in Amity all the time."

Peter thought a little bit.

"Why not?" he said after a while.

Feeling my Amity side come out, I put my arm around his shoulders as we walked into the Merciless Mart.

"You know," I said, "I can never have too many friends. Also, you can be like the brother I never had."

"Or the lover you never had."

"Slow down, Don Juan. Let's just go get ice cream, and we can talk about plumbing or finger paints or something along the way. That's what folks talk about while getting ice cream, right?"

He laughed.

That night, right before going into the boys' section of the barracks, Elizabeth grabbed me by the arm.

"Why'd I see you hanging out with Peter?" she inquired ferociously.

"We were just getting ice cream," I said. "He wasn't leading me astray, like talking me into putting tacks on everyone's chairs, or beating up kids for their money, or anything like that."

Elizabeth gave me the stare of internal explication.

"You realize he really likes…"

"Yes," I answered. "He really likes being evil, and he really likes my farmer's tan. I really don't intend to pal around with him that much. Still, I'm bound to get to know him better, now that I've learned… certain things."

"Like what?" Alexandra walked up to where Elizabeth and I were talking.

"I learned that…" I didn't really want to say something so shocking and weird and personal, but that would be very unCandorish of me. "I learned this evening that Jack Kang is my biological father."

"That explains everything," Elizabeth said. "You both speak with a slight lisp."

"No, I do not!" I replied.

"Yes, you do," Alexandra answered, giggling. "It's not noticeable at all. It took me a while to notice it, and I notice everything." She then looked confused. "Peter likes Lennon's farmer's tan? What's that supposed to mean?"

Elizabeth held her head back and laughed out loud.

"You are such a sweet one, Ally," she said. "Sweet as honey…"

After talking about our love lives (or, lack thereof, to be more exact), I went into the guys' section of the barracks.

"This has been such a weird day," I said as I entered. "Anyone else have something strange to confess or proclaim to his fellow barrackmates?"

Rashad laughed.

"You're such a silly gooser," he said. "So much seems to discombobulate and fluster your feathers."

Sigurd said, "Well, you weren't so Zen yourself while confessing in front of the girls today your fancy secret."

I thought about how Rashad, during the game of Truth, had told the girls he was a monorchid. All of the guys knew it; shower time during our first day of initiation sure revealed that secret.

"Well, what about your secret?" Rashad gave Sigurd a sly and ornery smile.

Sigurd shivered, but chuckled.

I remembered how today, right after Rashad's confession, Sigurd had told everyone about how he prefers to keep his Kleenex right after blowing his nose. Up until that moment, I'd wondered what that box he kept under his bed was for.

"Speaking of secrets," Matthew said, "aren't we going into the city square tomorrow to publicly talk about our deep and personal beeswax?"

"I think so," I said. "Though, I don't see why anyone would care to hear us publicly confess when we stopped wetting our beds. It gives Candor a bad reputation as peace disturbers, I bet."

"My mother always complained when the Candor initiates would confess random information in the city square," Sigurd said. "She didn't enjoy hearing things she felt weren't her business."

"Well, tell her to prepare to be disappointed," Warner said. "It's going to happen sooner or later. Maybe she'll get to hear about what tastes I enjoy in food."

Warner's confession today during Truth was that he preferred the taste of rotting fruit to that of fresh fruit. Everyone grimaced, except Elizabeth, who was enamored with the idea of eating moldy tomatoes and grapes.

Matthew laughed.

"I remember," he said, "when I was very little, Beatrice convinced me to make a salad with her. Without really making them into smaller pieces, we just took leaves of lettuce off of the head, and put them in a bowl. There was still dirt on them. Then, we decided to put in the tomatoes. We couldn't reach the kitchen knives, though, so we decided to squish the tomatoes. These particular tomatoes were rotting, so juice squirted out of them and got all over our hands and shirts, though a lot of it made it into the salad. By then, we decided we were bored with making salad, so we went outside to play."

"Did you get in trouble?" Warner asked. "I sure remember getting punished plenty of times for eating rotting fruits and veggies."

"Beatrice's mom found the salad," Matthew replied. "She told us it was a very pretty salad, but it wasn't quite right for eating. She managed to save the lettuce leaves, though they tasted like they'd been marinated in tomato. Afterwards, she told us not to use the kitchen without a grown-up's supervision. Beatrice, apparently, didn't always listen to that, because she figured out how to make sandwiches for herself."

"Sandwiches are, like, the easiest thing to make," Sigurd said. "She wasn't some prodigy just because she stuck food inside of two slices of bread."

Matthew laughed.

"I guess you're right," he said.

Rashad muttered, "Peter really liked Beatrice."

"What?" I inquired.

"For a while," Rashad continued, "I would see him looking at her, a shellshocked look of wonder in his eyes. He would never admit, though, that he had a crush on a 'Stiff'."

"He barely admitted he had a crush on me," I said.

"Peter has a crush on you?!" Matthew looked shocked. I don't see why. It's not like he's unused to such concepts.

Warner said, "The reason we all remember his crush on Beatrice is that she was one of the few girls who caught his attention. He much prefers guys. That's one of the many ways he, to some extent, resembles Dorian Gray."

"In what other ways does he, to some extent, resemble Dorian Gray?" Matthew asked.

Warner thought.

He then said, "I bet he wouldn't object to killing someone."

That Beatrice girl, whoever she is, sure is fortunate that Peter no longer likes her. It's oftentimes the crush who turns the guy down who's the first to end up in a coffin.


	5. Chapter 5: Bittersweet Visiting Day

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent series, as much as I wish I could. I mean, seriously, Veronica Roth has probably made bank off of those books. At the same time, most of the characters in this story, like Lennon, are of my own creation. A few, such as Peter, are based off of those persons from Roth's imagination. **

Playing Truth in the middle of the city square for everyone to watch was much more fun than we all thought it would be. And, in its quizzical way, it made me feel more like I belonged in Candor, not being afraid to be honest in front of the world.

Of course, this version of Truth was rated PG. Sally certainly doesn't fit the Candor stereotype of saying absolutely everything, and knows her audience like the standardized ages on movie ratings.

Some people scowled at all of us initiates, though. It often occurs to me, more and more, increasinglier and increasinglier, that Candor is not a very popular faction. Actually, I'm beginning to think that none of the factions are very popular factions. That's the problem with this city- it raises everyone to be dislikable.

Ella was with us. Matthew would sometimes stare at her wistfully and softly sigh. Poor Matthew. He thought Ella was the most amazing, intelligent, sweethearted, beautiful girl around, yet she would never take a second glance at him. Sally caught on about the teenage angst which had been so well hidden, and as a Truth question asked Matthew about what girl he likes.

That was the raunchiest of questions asked. Sally saw some little kids running about playing tag, and didn't want them educated on anything just yet.

Of course, we all got into a big discussion on bedwetting. That caused a crowd to stop by and listen. Jeanine Matthews, ruler of the Erudite, was walking by with her troupe of lackies, and even she stopped to listen. She seemed intent to hear the details of our troubles concerning late ages to continue using beds as toilets.

My mother had come into the city square, probably after making food deliveries for her job, and laughed at us Candor initiates' discussion. She would lean in closer whenever I would start to speak, always wondering what words would spout from my mouth.

She got a chance to talk to me on Visiting Day, which was not too long after.

"I know my mother won't come," Alexandra said during breakfast. "I bet she's disowned me as some sort of apostate for transferring factions."

"My mom and dad will come," Sigurd said. "They'll probably bring Beorn and Kirsti."

"Beorn and Kirsti?" Alexandra inquired.

Sigurd replied, "They're my younger brother and sister. They're twins, around three years old."

Elizabeth asked, "Matthew, are your parents coming?"

"I hope so," Matthew said. "It won't matter if they get too busy to come, though. I see them at the synagogue every week, anyway."

"What about your parents?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at me.

"I don't know." I chewed on my dark chocolate chocolate chip muffin pensively.

But, contrary to my innermost doubts, my mother came. She was with the other parents and families in the large room with the scales painted on the floor.

"Lennon!" She smiled and gave me a hug. "I barely recognize you! Are black and white really the only colors you now wear? How gloomy… You seem happy, though. I saw you in the city square that one day."

"I am constantly feeling happy," I said. "You won't believe how wonderful it feels to be honest."

My mother shrugged. She then looked serious.

"Did Jack tell you?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered.

"Have you talked to him much afterwards?"

"Not really. We once passed in the cafeteria, and he said hi to me. You have to realize that I've never known him, so not much can be expected by either of us."

My mother sighed.

But then she said, "Have you made any friends? I certainly hope you have. You had so much trouble finding good friends back in Amity. You always ended up with watered down friendships that really fulfilled nothing."

"Yes, I've made friends." I couldn't help but laugh at my mother's eager and enthusiastic questions. "Here's one of them right now."

Elizabeth was walking towards us.

"Guess what?" she said. "Peter jut now gave Chubby McGumpy a bleeding nose! That's the fourth time this week!"

"Peter?" My mother looked concerned. "Who is this Peter?"

"He's Jack's godson," I said. "He acts like a total jerk."

"Goofy Lennon still thinks he's back on the hippy farm, though," Elizabeth said. "He's all nice and kindly to Peter. I have no idea why. I really would like to throw eggs at Peter's bedroom window."

"Elizabeth," I said, "how on earth are you going to figure out which window is his?"

"I don't know," Elizabeth replied. "But when I do, he's gonna change his name to Retep the Windex Guy."

"Anyway," I said, "Elizabeth, this here is my mother. I've told you about her."

"Yo, Lenny's mom," Elizabeth said, holding out her hand for a firm handshake. (What'd you think it was gonna be? A footshake? Haha!) "I'm Elizabeth, but you can call me Lizzy the Egg Lady if you like."

Sigurd walked up just then, with four people who were obviously his parents and siblings.

"Mamma, Pappa," he said, "these are my friends Elizabeth and Lennon."

"Mom," I said, turning to my mother, "this is Sigurd. I realize his name sounds vicious, but he's nice."

My mother was obviously still in shock from Elizabeth, but she smiled and did her best to keep calm. She simply wasn't used to people talking the way Candor do, the way I now do.

Beorn and Kirsti walked up to my mother.

"Wanna see my princess dress?" Kirsti asked, twirling around in circles. Her blue dress instantly reminded me of that queen from that one popular movie that came out years ago, the one where there's a lot of snow and family dysfunction and a singing snowman.

"What a lovely dress," my mother said. "You certainly do look like a princess."

Seriously, I don't see why my mother got a job with food when she could have worked at a daycare center. I mean, she obviously enjoys spending time with kids. Pretty soon, she got into a discussion with Kirsti and Beorn about fairy tales and princesses and dragons. I remember how, when Whippoorwill and I were both little, and our father was out of the house for a while, my mother would be the first to suggest making a fort or playing hide-and-seek. What happened to those times?

Matthew walked up with his parents just then.

"Has anyone seen Alexandra?" he asked. "It's like she's disappeared."

"Funny you mention that," Elizabeth said, "but I think she started her period today. You know how she gets during her periods, poor girl. Also, it's not like she'd want to hang out here while knowing her mom now permanently hates her and won't ever want to come and visit her."

My mother was staring at Matthew's mothers. She didn't mean to be rude; she simply doesn't normally encounter lesbian couples.

The one Matthew calls mom gave my mother a suspicious look.

The one Matthew calls momma, though, gave the mom a playful punch on the arm, saying, "Come on, Elgobelia! Look on the bright side!"

"She's impudent, Olgaba," the mom, Elgobelia, said. "She doesn't understand."

"Of course she doesn't," the momma, Olgaba, said. "Now, what's your name, Lennon's Mom?"

My mother replied, "Fannie. My name is Fannie."

Olgaba chuckled.

"Fannie," she said, "with a double N sound like in Lennon's name. You've got a very nice son, Fannie. I see him at the synagogue every Sabbath, and he's always got something nice to say."

"It's always a backhanded compliment," Elgobelia mumbled. "The little turd…"

My mother seemed about to be completely overwhelmed.

All she could manage to say was, "I see why an Abnegation boy like Matthew would be able to assimilate into Candor so easily."

"Well, with honesty like that," Elizabeth said, "you might as well be in Candor, too, Ms. Fannie. We could all make one big happy family, holding hands and singing the AIM pan-tribal unity song right before a community pancake feast."

It was right then that I noticed Sigurd's parents hadn't spoken at all.

"I don't think they're very Candorish, if you ask me," I said, looking at them.

"They're mute," Sigurd said. "Mom was born without a voice box, and Dad lost his tongue in a faulty experiment. They communicate through sign language."

Sigurd's father started to open his mouth, as if to show everyone his tongueless cavern, but Sigurd's mother put her hands under and over his head to clamp his jaw shut.

We all laughed.

Just then, Peter walked towards us.

"I can't believe it!" he complained at me. "You know what Jack told me just now? He said that I'm grounded! What on earth?! Why the hell would I get grounded?!"

"I'm guessing you've never been punished before…" I said. "What are you grounded from?"

Peter blushed.

"I guess," he said, "I'm grounded from my puppets."

Olgaba giggled with glee.

"Sounds like fun!" she said.

"You like to play with puppets?" my mother inquired. "You should put on a show for us sometime… After you're done being grounded, of course."

Sigurd's mother made a few signs with her hands.

Sigurd translated, "Puppets are fun. It's a shame you have to be kept away from them."

"Now, what's your name again?" my mother asked. "I don't quite think you told me."

Peter replied, "My name is Peter."

"Are you the Peter my son and his friends told me about?" my mother asked. "Why would a boy who enjoys puppets be so cruel as to get himself grounded? Was it about giving that other boy a bleeding nose?"

"Partly," Peter answered. "Also, I broke into someone's car, and then let loose the dogs at the pound. I also might have set a toilet seat on fire."

"Oh, my," was all my mother could say.

Jack walked in our direction.

"It wasn't me!" Peter exclaimed.

But Jack was looking at my mother.

"Fannie," he said, "you… look fantastic today."

My mother did a very un-Amity thing. She gave Jack the death glare.

"How dare you?!" she hissed. "You're the reason I'm no longer considered a moral woman! You said you were on the man version of the pill."

"Burn!" Elgobelia said. "Shout at him, Fannie! Give him what's comin' to him!"

Sigurd's mother signed a few gestures which didn't look polite. Sigurd's father laughed.

"I was on the pill!" Jack said. "I guess… it didn't work. You know I wouldn't lie to you."

"Mom," I said, "seriously, this happened sixteen years ago. If you had a chance to scold him, it was back then."

Olgaba patted me on the shoulder.

"Now, now, dear," she said, "you just don't understand these things. But, you will, someday, when you're a daddy."

"I wonder how many kids I will have…" Matthew muttered. He let out the infinitesimal sigh he always lets out when thinking about Ella.

"You know what, Jack?" my mother said. "I can't believe that, after me telling you everything, you haven't tried to win Lennon's affection. Of course, he's not going to accept you, but at least you can die trying!"

"Die trying?" Jack replied. "Seriously, you're getting intense here. I have a life outside of my Dr. Phil sessions, so I don't always fix my sociological and emotional problems."

Elizabeth whispered to me, "Is that supposed to be the male response?"

Sigurd, hearing, whispered to her, "Seems like a douchey thing for him to think. I mean, I see where she's coming from."

Just then, Alexandra jogged towards us.

"Elizabeth!" she exclaimed. "Where on earth did you put my tampons?!"

"Oops! Sorry!" Elizabeth looked genuinely sorry. "I left them on the toilet stall last time I used one. How come you aren't bleeding out of your pants?"

"I'm wearing three pairs so I don't bleed through!" Alexandra looked peeved and stressed and depressed all at the same time. "I'm extraordinarily uncomfortable, and I really wish you'd learn to put things back where you got them!" Looking at Matthew, she said, "Why you staring at me? Wanna trade places with me, and try having a period yourself?"

Matthew looked horrified.

"Stiffs," Elizabeth said, playfully punching him in the arm, "are like cats. One thing out of their comfort zone puts them in instant shellshock mode. By the way, Lennon, that tight sweater makes your biceps look great. Your former farmer work sure gives me eye candy…"

Peter snapped, "Eyes off, Lizzy!"

"What you gonna do about it, Peter?" Elizabeth sneered. "Rip every hair out of my head? Twist me into a pretzel? Slip cyanide into my drink?"

"Shut up!" I hollered. "I'm interested in neither of you! You're both disgusting! I bet you both have already made wedding plans, and wish to sweep me away and become my ball and chain, or something like that!"

Sigurd said, "But Elizabeth is so gorgeous. Why would you be appalled by her attention? I understand why you don't find Peter all that alluring…"

"Of course," Elgobelia said. "Men are horrifying and unattractive creatures, with little to no personality. Realized that by now, Fannie?"

Sigurd's mother wrapped her arms around her husband affectionately, putting her head on his shoulder. He put his hands where hers met on his arm.

Jack hollered, "Fannie, if you're so peeved by my deportment, I'll invite him over for dinner! I'll get to know him!"

"You'll love him," Elizabeth said. "You and him are like two peas in a pod, or two pees in a bed wetter's bed. I mean, seriously, you both are nice to Peter, for some odd reason."

It was then that all of the arguing got to me. I started to cry.


	6. Chapter 6: My Mother

**Please be sure to write reviews! I want to see what people think of this story, and feel free to offer up any suggestions! **

"Lennon…?"

I pulled the covers over my head. I didn't want to get up.

"Come on, Lenny. You have to get up. You've missed breakfast already."

"You can't still be freaking out about yesterday, can you? Your mom's still here, waiting to apologize. She didn't mean to argue in front of you."

"None of this is a big deal. You can't stay in bed all day just because some folks were bickering."

I sat straight up in my bed. Matthew, Sigurd, Rashad, and Warner were all standing around me.

"Go away!" I shouted. "For goodness' sake, you're all so stinkin' nosy!"

I didn't want them to be so caring about me at the moment. Maybe later, when I'm feeling better, I'll want their sympathy. Right now, though, I didn't want to go back into a world full of biological parents and custody and upbringing hullabaloo.

Muttering, I said, "I now see why Alexandra was in a wreck… In the area of general emotions, I mean. This has nothing to do with menstrual periods." I thought a bit. "Was it emotionally wimpy of me to break down yesterday?"

"Well, you have been tired lately," Matthew said. "It's not everyone who transfers factions and has to learn to assimilate into an entirely different cultural context. Also, you were in a crowded room, full of noisy people, so your stimulation level was already at its peak. Added to that, you've been going through family identity crises many a time these past few weeks. Therefore, by the time your mom and Jack started to argue, it would have been perfectly excusable for you to fall apart."

I nodded, as if I actually agreed with him. Drat! What a liar I must be!

After getting up and putting some clothes on, not really caring how they looked on me or whether or not my hair was tidy, I walked out of the barracks area and into the cafeteria, where I saw my mother eating by herself. No one else was in the room.

"Good morning," my mother said. "Did you sleep well?"

"You're just being polite," I replied. "If you really cared whether or not I slept well, you would keep a pill and a dream log ready. I don't know. Maybe I slept well."

"I'm… sorry about yesterday. Jack and I sorted it out."

"Sorted what out? It's not like I'm a child anymore. Once I'm done with initiation, I'll technically be considered an adult, so custody and parenting stuff won't matter."

"This has nothing to do with custody. This has all to do with kindness and love. Has living in Amity taught you nothing? Give Jack a chance. He genuinely wants to get to know you."

"I guess so."

I sat beside her.

"Eat this." She took a white biscuit off of her tray and handed it to me. "You look horrendously pale. Are you not eating enough?"

Nibbling at the biscuit, I asked, "Have I ruined everything?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is it my fault our family is in pieces?"

"Of course not…"

"You're lying, only telling a half-truth."

"Okay, okay! You may have acted as a catalyst, but there are many other factors that have gone into this. It was still everyone's choice on how to act and react. Just because you were a hard child to raise doesn't mean you should have been treated the way we all treated you."

I was quiet.

"In other words, Lennon, this is not your fault. You may have been the reason, but it is not your fault. Trust me when I say that."

She had an honest look in her eyes.

"Sorry for freaking out yesterday," I said, suddenly feeling ashamed.

"There's no need to apologize."

Filthy Amity folks. They're always lying to make you feel better! Whether I was in the right or not, it was only decent of me to apologize to my mother. I mean, isn't that what you do when you hurt someone's feelings, no matter who is of the guilty party? "No need to apologize." Baloney!

But I smile back at her, because I can't be angry at her forever. She's my mother, and even if she lives in ways I don't agree with, I need to remember how much she cares. I need to respect her.

"There is a need for me to apologize," I said. "That's what kind people, like yourself, do."

Afterwards, we talked mostly about what's been going on in our lives in the weeks since Choosing Day. It was nice being able to talk to my mother, and kind of reminded me of how we'd converse back in the old days, before all of these big changes and revelations.

It was the last I would see her for a long time.

Our goodbye

was

very emotional.


	7. Chapter 7: Romantic Love

**I'm seriously scared that I wrote a chapter full of fluff just now. So, if I don't write within the next week, I might be in the hospital recovering from the embarrassment of diving into something so mainstream and full of fluffy bunny rabbits and fluffy dust bunnies and all that jazz! Anyway, please write reviews and suggestions! Are there any directions you would like this story to go in? **

One of the things my mother mentioned to me right before leaving to head back to Amity was that there was "plenty of opportunity for love in a place like this". At first, I thought she was referring to the amount of friends I had as compared to the lack in my old life. But, that look in her eye was not what I would expect from someone just talking about friends.

Later on that day, after hours of lie detecting exercises, and lunch, and confessions, and lessons on cleaning wet sheets, I was sitting by myself in one of the hallways, simply enjoying my alone time. I was thinking about Ella. We'd both been getting to know each other very well, between simulations and mealtimes and church. Like me, she enjoyed drawing. She showed me her notebook full of sketches of animals and trees and landscapes. She was really good at that. The other day, she'd told me that last year she'd transferred from Amity, and, like me, had never really gotten to know anyone there or truly felt comfortable there.

It concerned me that possibly Matthew only viewed Ella in a skin-deep fashion, in a very shallow manner. She was so much more than an exotic-looking girl. Her personality defined her, and her wit and intelligence was what made her who she was.

Sitting in that hallway, thinking of Ella, it was she who was walking in my direction just then.

"Hi," I said. "Where're you going?"

"I dunno," she said. "Just wanted to get away from the crowds during my freetime. Care if I join you?"

I shrugged my shoulders. She down right next to me.

"You know," she said, "I heard about you breaking down yesterday."

"I guess everyone heard about that," I answered. I really didn't care. Wasn't that old news? It would have been much more interesting if she'd told me she'd just now seen a hippo performing in a jazz rock ballet.

"I like a guy who can cry in public," she said. "It's the 'tough' ones that annoy me."

"You don't need to tell me that to make me feel better."

"No, I don't. I'm telling you that because it's the truth, it's how I feel."

I looked at her. Her hair was jet black; her eyes were so deeply almond shaped, almost slanted like mine. She had flat fingernails, and a somewhat prominent nose. I wouldn't call her slender, though others might- she seemed to be that weight between slender and chunky, a rather healthy-looking, natural weight. (Unlike Alexandra, who looks like she sometimes starves herself; it must be a result of stress from living with her mother).

"Ella?"

"Yep?"

"You're kind of strange-looking. I haven't seen many people who quite look like you. It's interesting."

"Most people like me are already mixed in with the more fair-skinned peoples. In other words, I'm not as much of a rarity as you think. I solely look different. Take for instance Matthew- he's got those high cheek bones and those eyes. He could be related to me, for all I know."

I laughed.

"He might not like that," I said. "He really wants to marry you, I bet, and have tons of little kids and a fancy black-and-white house with black rye bread and nutritionless white bread in the black-and-white pantries."

She laughed back.

"Well, I certainly can't go out with him," she said. "He isn't saved. Even if he did know the Lord, though, I wouldn't want someone like him."

"That happens. He'll be so bummed to know how hopeless his situation is."

I really liked spending time with Ella. Talking with her felt so natural, and she was so friendly and gentle. Why had I never noticed this before?

"You know, Lennon, now that I think of it, I really like you."

"I like you, too. We've become great friends."

"I mean, I like you more than just as a great friend."

"Like, a boyfriend?" I felt a sinister chill go down me. "I can't be your boyfriend, Ella! I mean, you're pretty as much as the next person and all, but I don't think you're hot."

"That's okay. Wait, is that the only reason why you wouldn't go out with me?"

I thought.

"I guess that is the only reason," I replied.

She smiled, and said, "You don't have to find a girl hot to be her boyfriend. I mean, it helps normal people, but those on the darker side of gray don't require it."

To be honest, I wasn't quite sure whether or not I wanted to go out with anyone. But Ella was very nice, and I felt like she was more than just a great friend. Well, I would see what tomorrow brings.

The next day, though, I felt a strange warmth when Ella said hi to me while passing by me in the cafeteria. Also, while Elizabeth was commenting on how strong my back looked, I couldn't help but think that I would much rather have Ella comment on me.

The day after that, while walking through the halls with her on the way to the simulation room, where everyone else was, I said, "Ella, I've been thinking about what you said, about what you thought of me. So, I've been thinking about what I think of you, and how that compares to what you think of me, and how we should react to how we think of each other, and… Wanna be boyfriend and girlfriend with me?"

She stopped walked, and grabbed onto my arm.

"You know what?" she said. "Of course. One thing, though: Boyfriend and girlfriend just sound so generic. I mean, I have friends who are boys, so calling you my boyfriend would technically be lying. It'd be like me saying you're the only male guy on this planet who is my friend. And you have friends who are girls. So, why can't we all each other something really Gumpish, like 'extra special friends', or something?"

"Wow. That's a great idea."

She took my hand in hers.

"Time to do some simulations," she said.

Upon reaching the simulation room, everyone stared at us. It was a bit awkward, as everyone was silently gazing in Ella's and my direction. Sally was the first one to speak.

"Oh, sweet Granny's davenport!" she hollered. "Isn't it so romantic and cute?!"

Matthew looked shocked.

"But… but…" he started to say. "Lennon! How could you?"

"Yeah, Lennon?" Elizabeth gave me a questioning look. "Whatcha going steady with Ellie girl for?"

Needless to say, Elizabeth found it hard to talk to Ella for a while.

Matthew, Candor initiate of Abnegation birth, had an easier time forgiving me. He didn't talk to me the rest of the day, only darting me dirty and angry glances.

In the barracks that night, though, he said, "I'm so happy for you, Lennon. I shouldn't be selfish and wish you any less. It would be wrong to do so…"

"You don't have to be perfectly happy with this, Matthew," I said. "I mean, you really liked Ella."

"I didn't really know her like you did." Matthew shrugged. "Anyways, she chose you, and I can't be jealous about that. I mean, being jealous of you would be like being jealous of a brother. That's just not the way to go during these sorts of things."

We were both quiet.

He then said, "But it's okay for me to be jealous of your ears, right?"

"Why on earth would you be jealous of someone's ears?" Sigurd walked over to where Matthew's and my beds were.

Matthew shrugged.

"I think my ears look goofy," he said. "Lennon's are simply the better kind."

"Ella may not have swooned over your ears," I said, "but some lovely Jewish Candor girl will, and then we can have a double wedding."

"What about when I find a blushing bride?" Sigurd inquired.

"Okay," I said. "It can be a triple wedding. Actually, that would be kind of fun…"

"It would be crowded, though," Matthew pointed out.

"There's plenty of open space outside in Amity," I said. "We could book the wedding over there. Chicken Lark can officiate the ceremony."

So, up until we went to bed and fell asleep, we chatted and giggled and talked about all sorts of wonderful and interesting things, because manliness is present in even the tenderest and girliest forms.


	8. Chapter 8: Truth Serum, Secrets, & Vomit

**Oh, my word! I can't believe I wrote that chapter last night! I feel like Gilbert Morris! I mean, seriously, first, I make up characters with poorly thought-through names, and then include a horribly and incredibly cheesy romance. Still, I would like to think that I put enough touching and heartfelt moments in my story to make Gilbert Morris proud. That man sure knew how to write heartfelt stories, even if the romances were hammed. :) Also, since I graduated from high school yesterday, and since my older sister graduated from college today, I thought I'd write a semi-graduationesque chapter. Reviews, please! :)**

Today was the day. Thank goodness. No one had been dropped out of initiation, so today was our ceremony. We would all now be full-fledged members of Candor!

Technically, though, the first part of the ceremony was mainly a final test, an unfailable test. Jack told me about it the night before during dinner. The idea of a test sealing me into this community sent shivers up and down my spine.

"What's the test gonna be?" I asked. "I mean, I heard about going under some sort of Truth Serum, but that's just an exaggeration, right? I mean, all you-all trust us enough to know that we're perfectly honest folks…"

Jack shrugged his shoulders.

"How can I be so sure of that?" he inquired. "The Truth Serum will make you truly honest, and will spill out all of your secrets. With no secrets, you'll lose some incentive to lie."

"But what if after initiation ends I develop another secret? I won't have the Serum to force it out of me."

"But by then, the Serum will hopefully teach you the futility of pride, so you'll understand the danger of secrets. Also, as you mature, you will become more and more honest. I've known some faction transfers to Candor who still have a few things to learn here and there."

Peter blurted out, "Please pass the rice."

As I handed it to him, I asked, "How come no one here eats brown rice? It's so much healthier."

"Brown rice is neither black nor white," Jack replied.

"It's one thing to wear black-and-white clothes," I said, "but having only black-and-white foods can cause a few problems… a lot like some of the genetically modified foods developed in Erudite labs for Amity to grow."

Peter said, "How is genetic modification even bad for food? I thought Amity really liked it."

"After so many decades of going through the processes," I said, "it's still a faulty and shaky practice. Oftentimes, the results have long term effects that aren't very pleasant. Nothing about GMOs have been perfected. All in all, though, it's all still up to debate for all types and sorts of people."

Peter really didn't look very amused. I guess I didn't give him the answer he wanted; however, I didn't care, because I'm not here on this Earth to make him happy. (What answer did he even want, by the way?)

The three of us at the dinner table went on talking for quite some time.

Finally, Jack said, "I saw you with Ella yesterday."

I blushed.

"You saw me…" I started to say.

"You gave her a lovey dovey smooch on the cheek!" Jack tried to suppress a giggle. "I didn't know you were such the Don Juan."

"It's with just one girl!"

"I can still call you a Don Juan if I like, right? It's better than being called an Edward Cullen, I think."

I put my face in the palm of my hand, right where I cut it for Choosing Day.

Peter had a cross look on his face.

"What's wrong, Peter?" Jack asked. "Remember what I told you the other day?"

"I'm not jealous," Peter replied. "I'm just… thinking about other things."

"Hmmm…?"

"I'm still thinking about both of you-all talking about secrets, and about how you're both so honest, and… Jack, there are a handful of things you never figured out about my past."

"You were adopted," I said. "Mr. and Ms. Hayes are not your biological parents."

"How… did you know?" Peter was dumbfounded for a brief second.

"On top of that bookshelf is a picture of the young you with a man and woman and Jack. That man and woman both have blue eyes, while yours are brown. Two people with recessive traits cannot create a child with dominant traits."

Jack was staring at me, wide-eyed.

"That's… very analytical, Lennon," he said. "It's… a very Erudite quality."

"Thank you," I replied. "I'm intelligent in my own way, here and there." I then looked at Peter. "Were you abused as a child? I don't mean to be intrusive…"

"From what I can remember, it certainly wasn't all that pleasant." Peter shrugged his shoulders. "I remember living in a place full of tents and skinny, hungry people, in raggedy clothes. I remember my brother being attacked by wild dogs. Those dogs wanted to get me, so I ran from them. I guess I wandered away from my community, and was lost for a while. I found my way to this city, eventually. I think I was first taken in by an Amity lady, but then was adopted by the Hayes couple here in Candor."

Jack tried to judge whether or not Peter was lying. He saw that it was all the truth, though.

"You came from outside of the city?" he asked. "There's… a world of poverty out there, full of people forming poor and starving communities? And you, my poor, dear godson, lived for a time as a feral child, because the place you lived in was so unlike ours that savage dogs preyed on young humans?"

Peter looked ashamed. I don't know why- I mean, we all have our back stories, don't we?

"And," he said, "I remember being surrounded by the grown-ups, sometimes. They would drag me into their biggest tent, which was a few pieces of wood stuck in the ground to hold up a tarp, and sometimes… sometimes… they would…"

He started to cry.

"You don't know what it's like," he said between sobs, "coming to a place where grown-ups can feed you everyday, where you don't have to plan where you're gonna sleep that night, where… you have parents who hug you and kiss you goodnight, not because they want to rut with you, but because you're their child whom they truly care for."

"That explains everything, Peter," Jack said. He took Peter's hand into his. "When your parents, those people who cared for you, died, you just couldn't stand it anymore?"

"I tried so hard to be good, for them. Every night, after bullying someone or sassing my teachers, I would ask God to forgive me and to make me into a nicer person. But, now they're gone, I feel so alone, and it makes me lose what little self-control I have."

Jack opened up his arms, and, like a small child, Peter went into them.

It was around that time that I slipped out, and headed back towards the Merciless Mart. They were having a personal moment with each other, and I'm not Candor enough to snoop into their emotional moment.

Today, though, was going to, emotionally, be a different kind of day. The final initiation ceremony was about to commence. All of Candor was to sit in the room with the scales (which, a set of large scales were literally put in the room for symbolic and ceremonial purposes; a Valentine's heart was put on one scale, and a feather was put on the other, for some odd reason or other).

One by one, each of us was put on the Truth Serum. I watched as Elizabeth talked about losing her virginity, as Alexandra discussed her anorexia and former use of marijuana, as Matthew mused over his sexual fantasies, as Sigurd talked about letting classmates get bullied rather than confronting the bullies.

It was my turn to be injected with the Serum.

I sat down in the chair, as all of Candor stared at me.

Ella had the syringe in her hand, and stuck it into my neck. Sally was sitting nearby, smiling as if this was her favorite thing in the whole entire world to do. Jack was watching in an austere manner, as if he, as leader of Candor, should take this truth test more seriously than anyone else.

I felt a slight dizziness go through me. Then, I didn't notice a difference at all. I felt perfectly fine.

"Talk about your secrets, Lennon," Sally said. "Spill out anything you know you should share."

Seriously? I had to spill out my secrets? I didn't even open my mouth; it was like the Serum had no effect on me. What should I do? The temptation to lie or make up a secret is intense, but I guess I should tell the truth; that's what I'm supposed to do anyway.

"This Serum feels ineffective," was the first thing I blurted out.

Jack laughed, but Sally looked concerned.

"Lennon," she said, "what was your result for your aptitude test?"

"They gave me Candor," I replied. "If you want verbatim, the nice lady said, 'The highest aptitude you show is for Candor.' Isn't that nice? It gave me the perfect excuse to leave Amity."

Sally inquired, "Have you ever wondered… whether or not your result could thinly veil divergence from the factions at all? Could you be Divergent?"

I looked in Jack's direction. Inconspicuously, he was ever so slightly moving his hand from side to side, as if telling me "no". He obviously wanted me to lie, and the look of fear in his eyes more than confirmed that.

"Of course I'm not Divergent!" I replied. "I mean, that's just a myth the Erudite use to scare everyone!"

How do people act under Truth Serum? Well, they just talk on and on… I had to get everyone to think the Serum was effecting me. What else did the Serum do to people? It made them talk more slowly and articulately…

"I've always hated the Erudite, haven't you?" I said. "I mean, I've known some nice ones, who I would sometimes talk to at school (when my father found out about me talking to folks outside of my faction, he totally flipped out; that was during the fifth grade) but most of them seem to be real snobs. I normally averted my gaze from them, not wanting to draw attention."

"But everyone saw that, and your father eventually learned about that, so how is it a secret?" Sally raised an eyebrow, then said mischievously, "Have you ever done something you would never tell anyone, or certain people, about?"

I felt myself blush.

I answered, "I once hit someone. It was in middle school, and he was one grade ahead of me, and bigger and taller. He said something that offended me, and, since I'd been having a bad enough day already, with my father scolding me during breakfast and all, I gave this kid a punch right in the schnozz and kisser."

"Did you feel like you were justified at all? Honestly, I think he kind of deserved getting socked."

"No. At Amity, we were taught that punching someone is never justifiable. I was able to keep it a secret from my parents for a while, though, because this boy was from Abnegation, so no one would have known him."

"What was this boy's name?"

"Tobias. Really, he was a very nice guy, and I wish I hadn't hit him like that. I was simply over emotional, and had so much built up anger after so long. The next day, I apologized to him. He refused to acknowledge me for some time, but then he apologized to me for saying those offensive things. That's when we secretly showed each other our marks. I had some on my back and legs from my father, but he had some all over, mostly on his shoulders, arms, and back, from his father."

"Was Tobias your friend?"

"Yeah. He was one of the few real friends I had during my school days. I never told either of my parents about him, and he never told his father about me. At school, we were expected to stay in our own groups, with people from our own factions, but nobody really noticed us hanging out together."

I realized that all this talk about interfactional friendship could make Sally even more concerned and suspicious. So, I decided to change the subject.

"Of course, I was sad when it was Choosing Day for Tobias. Last I heard, from I forget who, he transferred to a different faction. So, at school, I amused myself by pulling pranks on teachers every now and again. I bought a Whoopee cushion on my way to school one day, and, put under the pillow that one of my teachers always put on her chair. She was one of those prim and proper, strict and studious, teachers. Another teacher, I put a frog in his desk drawer. And you know what? No one caught me. No one suspected that the quiet little Amity kid would disrupt class with such pranks."

Sally commented, "Well, I'm certainly glad you haven't joked around like that with me. It's very obvious, though, that you're quite happy here."

"Of course I'm happy here," I said. "I feel so much more freedom here, not just because the faction is more my type, but because I'm not still living with that control freak. I've long been reconciled with my mother, though. Slowly, bit by bit everyday, I'm figuring out why she was so quiet and falsely peaceful throughout my childhood. She truly was a kindhearted lady."

"Lennon," Sally said, "talk about your love life."

"Ella is my first extra special friend- that's what we call each other, instead of boyfriend and girlfriend- though I did kind of like this one girl back in Amity. At least, I thought she was really cool until I realized she was conniving and crafty and cruel. She's a sadist just as much as Peter's friend Molly, though in subtler ways. She's much more the calm, passive-aggressive, lying sort. So, late one night, when a bunch of girls were sleeping outside, her included, I took a jar of honey and poured it all over her feet, neck, and blankets. Apparently, the next day, ants were crawling all over where the honey was."

There was a silence.

"I felt so bad about that, afterwards," I added. "To hear piercing screams ring through the quiet, Amity farms. It sure beat hearing that rooster crow like it did every day, that's for sure."

I confessed to several other things, nothing of which I will talk about now. Needless to say, though, I convinced Sally that I was okay to keep around. (I overheard her saying to someone later, "He's such a strange boy: He thought the Serum wouldn't affect him, but he just needed to give it a few seconds. I sure hope his pride doesn't get hurt by that later."

After the Truth Serum session, the final initiation ceremony mostly consisted of eating white cake and white ice cream with black chocolate chips in both. (This part, apparently, is called the "dalmatian reception"; what a cheesy name!) Of course, Sally felt the need to say a long and overly optimistic speech about how wonderful it was working with all of us and getting us to where we needed to go to become true, blue (I mean, black and white) Candor members.

"This sure beats Erudite's final initiation ceremony," Alexandra said. "Every year, the initiates walk in to 'Pomp and Circumstance', and play a long and confusing calculus trivia game. Afterwards, almost every person of intellectual importance makes a longwinded speech. The worst part is, of course, that there is no reception. It's not like I could have stuffed myself with much, anyway…"

"Eat that cake and ice cream, honey!" Elizabeth said. "You wanna gain a few pounds, especially with everyone now knowing you as the anorexic girl!"

"But I'm already full," Alexandra said. "I just can't eat much because I'm so skinny!"

"Pig out, then!" Elizabeth smiled. "I've been full since slice five of this cake and scoop six of this ice cream. I'm now on slice ten and scoop thirteen."

I was laughing at their conversation, as ironic and semi-serious as it was. Just then, Ella walked up from behind me, and wrapped her arms around my torso.

"Congratulations," she said. "You're now officially one of us."

I placed my hands where hers were.

"You painted your nails," I said. "White with black spots. Like a dalmatian."

"Yup... One question."

"Yes?"

"You liked a sadist?"

"I'm not sure if you could say whether or not I liked her. I thought her spirit and fireyness were interesting, that's mostly it."

Ella laughed.

Tonight was going to be us initiates' last night in the barracks- tomorrow we were going to go into training for our Candor jobs. So many changes, and it was all happening so fast. One thing I wanted right now, though, was just to spend time with Ella.

I turned around to face her.

"Come here, poppet," I said. I gave her kiss on the mouth, as tenderly as I could. I'm afraid I haven't had much practice with kissing though, because I needed to go back for more practice.

"I would say get a room," Elizabeth said, "but you're both so stinkin' innocent. Seriously, you both are in this relationship purely for the personalities, I'm certain of it. Whereas Sigurd and I had quite the time while you were at Jack's, Lennon, and while you were at the market, Ella."

"What?" I asked. "You and Sigurd did what?"

Sigurd walked up just then.

"Did I just come in to the awkward part of a conversation?" he asked.

"I was telling them about yesterevening," Elizabeth said.

Alexandra looked uncomfortable, which led her to change the subject.

"I found a fancy watch on the floor during church the other day," she said. "I still haven't found who it belongs to."

"I'd just keep it," Elizabeth said.

Ella said, "Judging by how many lost things you find, I would just set up a Lost-and-Found at the church. Wasn't it last week when you found that set of dentures? And, the week before, it was a hankie?"

Matthew walked up just then.

"Someone threw up on the floor over there," he said. "There aren't any factionless janitors to clean it up."

So I walked over and cleaned it up. Why not? YOLO.


	9. Chapter 9: NOT A CHAPTER! IDEAS PLEASE!

I am at somewhat of a loss, and would like ideas for continuing this story. Now that the initiation process is over, what sort of stuff do all-y'all think should happen now? Should Lennon's Divergent aptitude get found out completely? Should Ella come out as a Dauntless transfer? (I keep thinking that she is, because she seems like a fairly confident person, but she seems too peaceful, at the same time; maybe she has an aptitude for both Dauntless and Amity?) Should Christina come into the story and fall in love with Peter, who teaches her how to be a sleazy Slytherin criminal?

I plan on adding another chapter sometime soon, whenever that will be. Feel free to give me ideas, though! :D

Thanks! :D


	10. Chapter 10: My Job, and Personal Beeswax

**I'm afraid this might be a bit of a long chapter, but that's okay! :) If you have any suggestions for upcoming chapters, be sure to send them to me! Also, remember to write reviews, because I need to see what all-y'all are thinking of this spinful yarn! :) :) :)**

"Okay, now," Sally said, looking at several papers. She was sitting behind a big, black work desk, in a room with zebra-striped walls. As initiate facilitator, it was her duty to act as a job counselor now that our final initiation ceremony had occurred. "So, you wanna be a lawyer?"

"Ew," was all I could say. "Seriously? You think that just because I transferred to Candor that I want to have such a boring, frustrating job?"

"Well, you get to meet a bunch of weirdos." Sally laughed. "Of course, there are plenty of other jobs which require honesty. While most teachers are Erudite, there are several from Candor. We mostly put them in the history department, because that position always tempts folks to lie. Also, back to jobs themselves, reporters and journalists often are Candorian."

"A journalist? You mean, like someone who writes for the newspaper?"

"Of course."

I'd always thought it'd be cool to be a journalist. When I was little, I thought it'd be fun to create picture books, because I loved to draw. One time, though, when my parents took me into town, I saw a journalist interviewing someone, which is when I got interested in the newspaper. True, the stories were boring, but the way they got those stories in there in the first place was the interesting part.

"Do you think I'd make a great journalist?" I inquired.

"I guess so. I mean, you seem genuinely curious, and you know how to speak facts in an articulate, organized manner."

An hour or so later, I arrived at _The Nosies _headquarters. _The Nosies _was the only newspaper in the city, but it was well respected for its honest and quality writing. A man was sitting at the black-and-white checked desk. It was a Candor man.

"You're one of the new initiates, aren't you?" he asked. "I guess that means you're here to see if you can get a job."

"I guess you're right," was how I replied.

"We'll let you talk with the boss," the man said, standing up. "I'm certain there's a job opening. Actually, we've been in dire need of reporters and journalists ever since the old boss left. Workers just got all scared and shy of the new one, and they up and left."

What sort of boss was this?

"Who was the old boss?" I asked.

"The lady who works with Candor Serum inventory now," he replied.

He led me down a hallway to an office at the end of the hallway, because hallways are so fun to repeat about in a single sentence hallways.

Anyway, he hollered into the office, "Newbie! Does he need to fill out an application?"

"No one fills out applications here," a man's voice said. "I mean, I run this place like the factions: You choose one, and stick to it. I can't stand how many people think they can just walk out if they don't enjoy their work! Who needs applications when choices are stressful enough?"

The Candor man said to me, "You can go in now."

I walked in. Behind a blue desk was a tall, balding Erudite man. He was standing up, and holding out his hand, which I shook. It felt like grabbing a slug.

"Please be seated," he said.

As he sat in his seat behind the desk, I sat in the seat in front of the desk.

"What is your name, young man?" he inquired.

"My name is Lennon Kang," I replied. "And yours?"

"My name is Jehoshaphat Matthews," the man replied, "née Rhydlehanger."

"What an interesting name," I said. "Were you named after Jehoshaphat from the Bible?"

"I have no idea."

"And why did you change your name to Matthews? I mean, Rhydlehanger sounds so much more interesting and eccentric."

"Matthews is the name of my wife, Jeanine."

"You're married to Jeanine Matthews, boss of all the Erudite? Are you the one making all of the decisions for her? If that's the case, would that make her nothing but a titular leader?"

"You ask far too many questions, but that shows how great you will be at getting the inside scoop for a good newspaper story. _The Nosies _is desparate. Want a job here?"

I nodded my head, eagerly. Was I really gonna get a job this easily?

"First things first, then," Jehoshaphat said, "start learning what you can about the Divergent. We're planning next year to have the inside scoop on that section of society, so we can have tons of articles about them. The public needs to know how dangerous Divergent people can be."

"But, if you haven't got an inside scoop on them, how are you so sure they're dangerous?" I asked.

Jehoshaphat said, "Boy, you should have joined Erudite, your curiosity is as sharp as a wittle on Elphaba's broomstick! Divergent people are dangerous in many ways. You'll learn how so the more you get the inside scoop on them."

Working for Jehoshaphat was all about getting the "inside scoop". Pretty soon, after a couple weeks of working for _The Nosies_, I hated hearing about scoops and insides and all that rubbish. It was like the boss man was obsessed with dissecting ice cream, or something like that. (Actually, I bet that's why he used that idiom- after years of drinking Erudite soda, he was really craving Candor ice cream).

The man at the front desk, Larambalui, was very friendly, and he always had a smile on his face. His sister Nawani was almost as friendly as him, though, for some reason, she seemed to have a chip on her shoulder. I wish I could figure out why.

My favorite person who worked for _The Nosies _was my fellow journalist Hacklenburg. She was hilarious, I tell you. Every day, I would laugh at whatever she said, mostly because of the way she said it. She could take the most normal-sounding thing, and use all sorts of vocal inflections and emotions to make it humorous. I bet, instead of perfume, she sprayed herself with laughing gas everyday. What a funny gal!

One day, Hacklenburg and I were sent to Amity to "get the inside scoop" for a news article on recent agricultural developments. Hacklenburg was all excited about going to visit Amity, because she'd spent all her life inside of the city.

"You know what?" she said. "I bet everyone there is all zen-like and holds hands. Probably guys hold hands with guys."

"Some do," I said, laughing.

"That Peter kid holds hands with guys."

"That doesn't surprise me."

"At least, he held hands with one guy. Only lovey dove he ever had, and it didn't even last a day. Kid's name was Al, I think."

"Oh, Peter… I bet he worked hard to be impressive and chivalrous just to get Al to hold his hand."

"You love Peter, right?"

"Of course. He's like family, a sibling, to me."

"Will we meet more of your family in Amity?"

"Maybe."

"I bet your mom's pretty. A nice fella like you must have a nice, pretty mom. The way you described her, with all her peacefulness and kindness, makes it sound like it all shines through onto the outside."

"People have said she's pretty."

"People said my mom's pretty, until she broke a piano. Then, people decided her lack of grace was unbecoming of a lady."

"That's too bad."

Upon reaching the gate, we had to hold out cards letting the Dauntless guards know we were allowed to pass through. And, upon passing through, we received several stares from everybody we passed.

"Wow, these people sure are rude!" Hacklenburg exclaimed. "Didn't their parents teach them not to stare and glare? Oh, well! I love receiving attention, anyway!"

We walked through several orchards before reaching the Department of Post-Pyrobaptismal Chicagoan Genetic Agriculture and Vegetative Development. Just before walking in there, I heard a familiar voice call my name.

"I bet that's your mother!" Hacklenburg hollered. "Wow! She's even prettier than I expected!"

My mother walked towards us.

"Look at you!" She smiled. "That notepad and camera can only mean one thing: You're a journalist."

"Isn't it great?" I inquired gleefully. "I've already interviewed tons of weird folks, and I've written so many articles that the typewriter is just an extension of my fingers."

"And who is this?"

"This is Hacklenburg. She's a co-worker of mine."

"Speaking of young ladies, how is Ella?"

"She's fine…"

"Have you started courting her yet?"

"Um… How did you…? Where'd you find out…?"

"It was _so _obvious, Lennon!"

Hacklenburg was starting to laugh hysterically.

"You know," she said, "mothers are so good at figuring out such things about their kids. I don't have a clue how, but my mom knew all about the Erudite boy I would secretly meet up with in the library. She always knew when I had a crush on someone, and, even before I realized my own true feelings, she encouraged me to go out with this trans-girl in my geometry class. She had the dreamiest eyes, and flowing locks of hair, and my mom just noticed how I stared."

My mother gave Hacklenburg an odd stare.

"Your mom must be a psychic, or something," she said. "Even I, as awe-striking as I am, could not be that perceptive about Whipporwill's crushes, or Lennon's lack thereof."

"Actually, my mother is the head of a coven, so she does have dealings with things like that, reading minds, auras, emotions, and the such."

Just then, an all-too familiar-looking man walked up to us.

"Fannie!" he hollered angrily. "Why the hell did you-"

"Harry," my mother said, "you know how I feel about you speaking that way to me."

I felt my face blanche, as my mother's husband, the man who punished me, stared at me.

"Lennon," he said, "I can't believe you're here."

"Hello, Uncle Harry," was all I could say.

Harry frowned.

"You'll always be my child, Lennon," he said. "You realize I do care about you, and I'm so happy to see you here.."

"No," was my reply. "Hacklenburg, let's go inside the Department building. Jehoshaphat wants these interviews done lickedy-split, and he wants us to get the 'inside scoop' ASAP."

"Lennon!" I heard Harry call after me as I walked through the building's doors.

As Hacklenburg and I walked through the halls, she said, "You have tears running down your face. Are you okay?"

"I just… didn't want to bump into him," I answered. "That's all."

Walking out of Amity, looking at the beautiful fields and orchards, I kind of wished I had stayed there. I mean, as an initiate, I probably could have avoided Harry and Whipporwill, and could have eventually gotten my own place to live. I would be close to nature, and around friendly people.

But, looking at the wonderful friends and family I have found in Candor, I realize that I have no regrets. God has blessed me by letting me transfer. I wouldn't have become the confident, honest, happy person I am today if I'd stayed in Amity.

That afternoon, I hung out at Jack's house. For about half an hour, Peter played the piano that was in the parlor. It had never occurred to me that maybe he was musical, and even if it had occurred to me, I would never have thought that he was good at his instrument of choice. But, while listening to him play "Jessica's Theme" and _Cinema Paradiso_'s "Love Theme", a peace came over me.

"Peter," I said, "you play the piano very well."

He stopped playing in mid-song.

"Thanks, Lennon."

"Where'd you learn how to play?"

"Um… A guy named Al loaned me his mom's instructional books, which taught me how to do the notes and markings and stuff. Afterwards, I checked out song books from the library. It all just… stuck. Playing the piano makes me feel so free, so pure."

There was a dreamily wistful look in his eyes.

"Don't you sometimes… feel like your mode of venting is just perfect for you? Lennon?"

I couldn't help but smile at him, my godbrother, so sweet and tender at times.

I replied, "If it's perfect for me, that's when I realize it's not simply venting, but self-expression. Sometimes, it gets to the point where I know I'm rebelling against society, because my self-expression reveals such an absurdly strange person that could never be accepted."

Peter was quiet for a moment, obviously thinking over something.

He then said, "I made up a song. Wanna hear it?"

As he started playing, it was as if something broke deep down inside of me. That melody- could a human have truly been its inventor? It was impossible not to notice Peter's pleasure, rapture, as the song sourcelessly made that beautiful, heavenly noise.

The song ended all too soon.

"How's that for self-expression?" Peter smiled.

Later that evening, I was busy drawing a portrait of Ella. We were in the parlor of the small house which had been issued to Matthew, Sigurd, and me after initiation.

"Are you almost done with it?" Ella inquired.

"Almost," I replied. "Too soon, though. Self-expression always makes venting end too soon."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Um… There. It's now done."

Ella looked the portrait up and down.

"Sorry if it's not all that good…" I said.

Ella, smiling, answered, "I think you did a wonderful job."

She sat down on the sofa next to me.

"Lennon…"

"Yes, Ella?"

"There's something you should know about me. I know you'll accept me for this, since I'm pretty sure you're the same way. When I took my aptitude test, I was placed as Divergent."

"Okay."

"I mean, if Jeanine Matthews gets her way, and wants to hunt down and eliminate people like me, then… Who knows what will happen."

I took her hands within mine.

"Ella, it's okay. Being Divergent is much more common than anyone, and everyone, thinks it is. Most people I've met are technically Divergent. All this talk about us being a frightening, dangerous minority is just a way in which the media is being used to control the members of society."

Ella lay her head upon my shoulder.

"But Lennon," she said, "that only means Jeanine will persecute everyone. She's… Could she possibly…? I mean…"

"She has little man syndrome, probably," I said. "It'd be no wonder if she punished everyone in this city every day for months on end."

Without thinking, I put my arms protectively around her. She clutched at them, as if she truly felt that I could protect her. Normally, she's so calm and confident, but the topic of being Divergent seems to have really made her nervous. What else could I do but attempt to comfort her?

She muttered, "My mother, may she rest in peace, used to say that I should give all my fears to God, that I should trust the Heavenly Parent, and to have faith. But… I know that times will be tough. It so easily discourages me."

I remembered all of those times when I struggled with faith, when it seemed easier to give in to hopelessness. God seemed so far away, so uncaring, or so it had seemed at the time. Sometimes, I still have trouble trusting in Him, but, thankfully, that problem increasingly wanes.

"Don't be afraid," I said. "You must turn your worries and concerns into prayers; God always hears them, even if you have trouble sensing His presence."

"But my faith is so much smaller than I wish it could be…"

"You probably have more faith than me. But, isn't faith the size of a mustard seed able to grow, until you have complete trust in the Lord?"

"But don't you worry?"

"Of course, all the time. Which is why you should not act like me."

She laughed.

"God will protect me from whatever Jeanine tries to throw my way," she said. "He's protected so many people before I came along."

Into the house walked Matthew and Sigurd.

"What's she doing here?" Sigurd teased. "I thought passing initiation would be our way of escaping her."

Ella laughed.

"I just stopped by for a tea," she said. "Somehow, though, I ended up getting a portrait drawn of myself."

Matthew looked at the drawing, which I had put on the arm of the sofa.

"Wow," he said. "She looks great…"

"Seriously," I said, "it looks nothing like her. Plus, it's more a cartoon image rather than a realistic masterpiece."

"I like how you totally made her cheekbones realistic," he continued on saying, ignoring my self-criticism.

Sigurd looked over Matthew's shoulder.

"The dress she's in," he said, "is kind of interesting. It's not at all what she's wearing now…"

"Maybe Lennon should be a fashion designer," Matthew muttered. "I mean, whenever he draws someone, he puts them in some outfit they aren't in."

Sigurd nodded. "He would be good at designing clothes."

Ella, standing up, announced, "It's about time I leave."

"I'll walk you home," I offered.

"I only live next door…"

I insisted, though.

She opened the door to her house. She was about to walk in, when she turned around to face me.

"I love you, Lennon," she said.

"I love you, too, Ella," I replied. "Maybe we could eat together during our lunch break tomorrow? Meet at the Gorse Bush Cafe?"

"All righty."

She leaned forward and kissed my mouth.

She then walked inside her house.

Back at my own place, I prepared for going to bed.

I was changing into a pajama shirt when Matthew, who shared the room with me (Sigurd slept by himself in the other room, since he was a snorer), asked, "Has Ella ever seen you shirtless?"

"No," I replied.

"Hmmm… I wonder what she thinks of body hair."

"You have more than I do, so don't go pointing fingers."

Matthew laughed.

"Hey, now!" he interjected. "I wasn't pointing any fingers, at least not accusing ones!"

"Where'd you get your hairiness from?" I asked. "My word. I can't believe I'm curious about that."

"I get it from Momma, of course. She's my biological mother. Mom got married to her after my father died, so I'm not biologically related to her."

"What was your father like? You've never mentioned him before."

"Well, Momma wasn't always attracted to sulky people. I remember Dad being as sweet and kindly as she is. He was a true Abnegation man, living to make others happy. He wasn't born Jewish- he converted sometime after his initiation. He died of pneumonia one winter during January. Momma and I still miss him, but we've moved on."

"What is your opinion of your other mother? You make it sound as if she isn't your favorite individual, as if she's a gloomy imposter…"

"Mom? I love her dearly, as I should. I am so glad she came into Momma's and my life. I just wish she could get over some of her problems, such as her constant negativity. It really brings me down. But, what she lets people see of her isn't completely her true self. If you knew her, you would realize how wonderful and caring she can be."

"She's like a toned-down version of Peter, I guess. There's so much more to her than one can assume."

Matthew was silent for a moment.

"We have to get up early tomorrow, Lennon. Good night."

"Good night, Matthew."

"Thanks… for being so open with me. You make Abnegationers seem totally secretive, and that's one of the great things about you."

As I lay awake, waiting to fall asleep, I thought about how private the people from Abnegation are, how they aren't quite as honest or open as I'd recently come to expect people to be. I remembered Tobias, and how, when I first met him, he didn't offer much information about himself.

I remembered the day I first met him. An Erudite boy had pushed him out of the lunch line, taking his spot. That brusque boy had literally pushed Tobias to the floor.

I rushed over to where Tobias was sitting on the floor. Holding out my hand, I helped him up. The first thing I noticed about him was how prominent his brow ridge and ears were. It was so interesting, reminding me of pictures of cavemen I'd seen in textbooks.

"You lost your spot in line," he said to me.

"Well, you were shoved out, so I guess my situation is much better," I replied.

We both traveled to the back of the line.

Tobias had such a strange, stern look on his visage, that I felt the urge to laugh.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing," I replied. "It's just that you have such an austere way of glaring at everything."

"Um… I guess I do?"

"What's your name?"

"Tobias." He paused, then awkwardly asked, "What's yours?"

"Lennon," I said, "like the peaceful guy, not the dictator."

Recently, folks had been thinking I'd been named after Lenin, so I tried to make sure folks knew that wasn't the case.

"Why'd that boy push you down?" I asked.

Tobias answered, "Because I'm Abnegation."

"Um… That's kind of obvious. I don't see how that's grounds for pushing someone down."

"Erudite hate Abnegation."

"Why?"

Tobias shrugged his shoulders. He didn't say much for the rest of the time we spent in the lunch line.

I really liked Tobias. I have no clue why- he wasn't friendly, and there was something calloused and rough about his personality. Maybe I liked him because, once he got to know me, he opened up and was honest about himself. Honest people are so much more likable than the secretive and the deceptive.

We would talk to each other often during lunch time and the few classes we had together. (He was a bit behind in math, so he shared that class with me; we also were in P.E. and art together). No one really seemed to care that we hung out with each other, since no one really paid much attention to either of us in general.

The day before his Choosing Day, after the last class period, Tobias and I were sitting on the floors of the art classroom, our backs against the wall. The room was empty- all of our classmates had left, and the teacher was making photocopies of some sort of paperwork.

"I'm transferring out of Abnegation," Tobias said. "I don't care if it's against the rules to talk about such things before the ceremony- I just have to tell someone."

"That's okay," I said. "You can tell me what you want to."

"It's just that… living in Abnegation is like living in Hell. If I stay there, I'll be within the same community as my father. I… just don't think I could handle that."

Tears started to run down his face. I reached for his hand and grabbed it, which seemed to comfort him, because he gazed at me and what looked like a smile formed on his lips.

A smile. I'd never seen him smile before. That was something new.

"Thanks for being so open with me, Lennon. Thanks… for being my friend."

We just sat there like that for several minutes, staring off into space, holding each other's hands.

I finally said, "Wherever you transfer to, please take care of yourself. Please. And, while you're at it, make some friends. It would help me sleep better at night if I knew you were happy and loved."

"Okay."

We then parted ways.


	11. Chapter 11: The Truth's Consequences

**I was told today that I need to get a life, since I've been spending so much time on this website. I'm beginning to question how healthy fanfiction actually is for my mental health. Still, as long as I don't go all Barclay of TNG, I should be fine. (Key word: *should*). Haha!**

Why did I have to be so gullible? How'd I fall for her wicked trap? It had been so easy to trust her, to believe she'd keep a secret, to think of her as a decent person.

"You devil woman!" I shouted at Ella. "You snitched on me!"

"I'm Candor," Ella said softly. "I simply told Ms. Matthews the truth."

I had been roughly escorted by Dauntless police to a small room at Candor headquarters, where I had been met by Jeanine Matthews, several other Erudite, Sally, and, to my utter surprise, Ella.

"Mr. Kang," Jeanine said to me, as if I was being given detention at school, "my trusty source here so claims that you self-identify as Divergent. Is that not true?"

"Um… I… uh…" I stuttered. Finally, I said, "Yes, that's true."

Jeanine smiled nefariously.

"Also," she said, "your initiation instructor here has been postulating such for a while. Haven't you, Sally?"

Sally, gazing at the ground, as if in shame, as if she really didn't want to take part in this, said, "He never seemed to fit within faction sociological boundaries. I really didn't want to report him until I knew for sure what his aptitude was; I mean, he seems like a good kid. You can't just ruin the life of anyone who's good."

Jeanine then inquired, "Ms. Whiteeagle, how would you like to receive your payment? Which sibling this time?"

"Autumn," Ella replied. "That leaves only one more Divergent to track down…"

"What?" I raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Ella explained, "Ms. Matthews has me as a hunter, technically. She pays me by… sparing my siblings, the ones who have been confirmed as Divergent. If I only find one more other Divergent before the deadline, we'll all be safe."

"How do you… How…" I found myself stumbling over my own words. "How does someone determine which Divergents to let live and which ones to arrest?"

"Let live?" Jeanine asked. "You're implying that I kill such people."

"Of course you kill them," I said, "because you're a douchebag."

Jeanine laughed.

"I love Candor," she said, "even though you're all expendable. I always hear amusing things said left and right at this place. Anyway, Mr. Kang, you shall be executed, unless you can prove the whereabouts of other Divergent."

"What?!" I was shocked. "Do you think I would rat someone out, just to save the skin on my back?!"

"A normal person would do it." Jeanine smirked. "Unless that person has some Abnegation in them. Of course, that wasn't one of the factions which I had an aptitude for."

I looked around at the people surrounding me, at the Dauntless police, at the Erudite snotbrains, at my insular jerkbag initiation instructor, and, mostly, at that backstabber Ella.

"I'm sorry, Lennon," Ella said desperately, seeing my blooming hatred towards her. "I had to it. Jeanine threatened my family, and… as I always put blood before faction."

I saw that look in her eyes. It reminded me of back at Amity when my neighbors and I would have to chase a racoon or other critter away from the food bins. Those animals would get this frightened look in their eyes, and their instincts went before their sense of reason, sending them running off, without even carrying a bit of food in their mouths… dooming themselves to hunger, when they could have run off with at least something.

Ella was like this right now. She hadn't stopped to think that there might be a way out of this problem, that her family could have sought asylum in Abnegation, or she could have flat-out lied to Jeanine; instead, she'd instantly gone by her first reaction, which was to protect her siblings at all costs.

What consequences had she paid for her actions, for playing Jeanine's dangerous tattle-tale game? What other people's blood is on her hands? Who appears to her in her nightmares, haunting the back of her mind, filling her with guilt?

Just then, into the small room rushed Jack.

"Jeanine!" he shouted. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"Ah, the other Mr. Kang!" Jeanine smiled gleefully. "I was about to take your darling Lennon over to Erudite headquarters to execute him. Isn't that grand?"

Jack's face went white like his blazer.

"You wouldn't," he muttered.

There was a silence.

He then said, quickly making his tone of voice much calmer, "Jeanine, if I fill out the paperwork, could I make it so that he gets executed at Dauntless headquarters instead?"

My heart beat like a drum. Was Jack really going to help Jeanine plan my execution, or did that look he gave me just now mean something?

"I don't see why not." Jeanine shrugged. "I do get bored with things happening in my stuffy libraries and labs. Having to go to the Dauntless Pit to watch the execution would be wonderful, as it would mean a chance to visit my nephew Eric, as well as laugh at those reckless fools drinking and jumping into the Chasm. I mock their impetuous impudencity! Officer Twinkles, please take Lennon Kang over to Dauntless, right this second!"

"Can I have one last word with him?" Jack asked.

Jeanine shrugged her shoulders. Then, she left the room, muttering something about having piglets to dissect. Her Erudite cronies followed her out.

Jack looked me straight in the eye.

"This will most likely be the last time I will ever see you," he said softly. "I doubt I'll be there for the… execution."

I raised an eyebrow at his tone of voice at that last word.

"You must be brave, Lennon, especially after the turn your life took today."

Brave? I certainly didn't feel like it was at all possible for me to be brave.

"Lennon..."

"Yes?"

"I'm proud of you."

"I've done nothing to make you proud."

"Don't say that. Never say that."

"'I'm proud of you' is something said by fluffbunny liars."

"No. It's said by parents. Every little thing you've done has made me proud of you. I… I only wish I could have been there when you were born, to have helped raise you. I could have… I could have…" Tears started to form in his eyes. "You wouldn't've had to… you would've had a better childhood."

I looked at his tear-stained face, the one which looked so much like mine. He had the same amber brown, slanted eyes as me, the same pointy cheekbones, the same light freckles right on the nose. He was my father, and I'd been born in the spit-image of him, with a few twists here and there from my mother.

"Oh, my poor mother!" I exclaimed. "How's she going to feel when she learns I'm dead?"

"Leave that to me," Jack said. There was that look he gave me, again. It's as if he knew something…

"Enough of the boo-hoo stuff," Officer Twinkles hollered. "I gotta get this guy over to the Pit. I sure hope the execution is soon."

Looking over at Ella and Sally, I saw that they had guilty looks on their faces.

"I'm sorry, Lennon," Ella said. "Could you… Could you ever forgive me?"

"Only because it's morally right," I replied. "If it were up to me, I'd tell you to go to Hell."

Sally said, "It's such a shame you couldn't conform, Lennon."

"That's a load of bullcrap," I replied. "What did Jeanine bribe you with?"

"Nothing," she said. "But I have reasons of my own, ones which I don't tell anyone. Oftentimes, if I truly have to tell someone, I only let out half of the truth." She smiled in a way which made me feel extraordinarily uncomfortable.

"Goodbye, Lennon," Jack said. He wrapped his arms around me, and kissed the top of my head. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Dad."

**Reviews please! Can anyone guess what I plan on having happen next? (Which, trust me, the plan isn't too far ahead as of yet, but it's definitely getting there!) **


	12. Chapter 12: Semi-Legal Re-Transferring

**Sorry I've taken such a stinkin' long time to update! Little things here and there got in the way, and, to make a rubbishly longish short story decently short, I finally am updating! Meanwhile, I almost cried the other night watching "Frozen" because it's such a sad movie, and I'm doing a 21-Day Drawing Challenge. Also, I apparently scared off my new beta reader, who claimed my writing contains too many unnecessary words. Too bad. :/ Still, I hope all-y'all enjoy this chapter! :D **

"Wait here," a Dauntless officer- -one by the name of Muffin- said, leaving me in a dark cell. He latched the door, grunted loudly, and walked away.

I'd been brought to Dauntless headquarters, which was a nightmarish cave within the bowels of the Earth, full of noisy people who had more metal and ink in their skin than was natural. They stared as Muffin led me through their lair; some pointed, and one had the impudence to throw a chunk of bread at me. Food waster.

I sat on the cell cot, and waited for what felt like hours. When the cell door finally opened, I was scared it would be time for my execution. In walked a lady whom I thought I might know from someplace. What stuck out to me the most was that her eyes were a similar shape as mine-not something I saw every day. I wondered what sort of people we were both descended from, to have eyes like that…

"Hello, Lennon," she said. "My name's Tori. You might recognize me from Aptitude Day."

That's why she looked familiar! Every year, she was one of those folks who administered the test. I mostly saw her in passing; my administrator for my own Aptitude Ttest had been Abnegation. Cindy was her name, I think.

"Do you know why you're here?" She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"Um… Because I'm Divergent?"

"Bingo."

"Do I have to discuss this? Can't I just get my execution over with?"

"Execution? Who said anything about an execution?"

Was this lady crazy? Hadn't she gotten the memo that I was one foot in the grave?

"You were brought here so I could help you escape," she said. "Jeanine expects an execution, but will be perfectly fine with it being a no-show if someone tells her an accident happened, or you killed yourself, or something of that sort."

"Wait…So, you're gonna make it so I can technically live, as long as I'm _legally _dead?"

"Exactly. Of course, you might have to change your name, and keep your past on the down-low. Only one other Dauntless knows about the escape plan. He and I received news of your arrival ahead of Eric and Max, so we're ready to act as clandestinely and smoothly as possible."

"This is so much to let sink in…What would happen if other people found out about this?"

"We'd be tortured, or executed, or made factionless, or something like that. But, so far, it hasn't happened. Already, we've kept many Divergents safe."

"And how do you keep them safe? How do they escape? Where do they escape to?"

"The one who helps me in this will show you a route out of our headquarters, and give directions on how to reach Amity or Abnegation, since those factions often serve as safe- houses for the unjustly accused."

Tori looked at her wristwatch.

"He should be here soon," she said. "I've got to go back to work; while not making kids go through simulations, I give folks tattoos."

"So you're the one blemishing everyone's skin around here."

"Of course. It's fun seeing someone go from apricot or brown to sickly blue- and- grey." She smiled. "Take care, Lennon. I know this is a lot, but trust me when I say it'll all be better."

She exited the cell, and held the door open.

"He's in here," she said to whoever was out there. Then, her footsteps sounded as she left.

Through the door walked someone I never thought I'd see again. When he laid eyes on me, shock and surprise crossed his face.

"Tori didn't mention your name," he said. "I… didn't expect you."

"She didn't mention yours, either, Tobias," I replied. "I never thought you'd transfer to Dauntless; I should have, though. None of the other factions quite suit you."

Tobias grunted, staring at his feet.

"And you, Lennon… a smart-mouth Candor. How did this happen?"

"I don't know. I guess there are surprises in all of us."

"You never were much of a liar."

"I flat-out lied to all of Candor, under Truth Serum, claiming I wasn't Divergent. But the truth got out sooner or later. Lying is funny like that."

"Yeah. I sometimes wonder if anyone will figure out my Divergence. I often wonder if I'll ever be able to figure out who's Divergent and who isn't. I'm looking forward to meeting that one person who manages to get through Dauntless initiation without being outed. You know what I mean?"

"Tori says she and you have helped 'outed' people many times."

"Yup. And it looks like you'll be one of 'em. So, here's the deal-I'll give you an escape route, claiming to the authorities that you'd escaped your cell and fallen into the Chasm, and you head off towards the Abnegation neighborhood."

It's like he remembered why I didn't want to live in Amity.

He continued. "You'll find house number 543 on Pumpernickel Street. Living there are two fellows named Shimea Barjesse and Geb Whiteeagle."

"Whiteeagle?"

"So?"

"That was Ella's last name. She was the informant who told Jeanine about me."

"Now, why did you ever trust a Candorian with your secrets? Of all the people you could have told!"

"Oh, yeah? The only folks I hang out with are Candorians! It's not like I had much choice in confidantes!"

"Whatever. Anyway, they'll take you in, and you'll be safe and sound and all that gobbledy-gook. You'll have to assimilate into Abnegation culture, enough so that an outsiderwon't notice the difference between you and the others. The Abnegationers are always willing to lend a helping hand, so they'll happily accept you."

"And they won't snitch?"

"Of course not. Why would they? Moving from faction to faction isn't illegal; it's just something nobody really ever thought to do. They'll understand that your faction of choice didn't work out for you. Now, Dauntless or Erudite-on the other hand- would be against someone coming to their factions post-Choosing, which is why you aren't escaping to _them_."

"I'm not interested in assimilating into Dauntless or Erudite. I have no place in my life for braggarts, warmongers, sadists, and all that such."

"Feeling the love here, Lennon. Candor really hasn't done anything to keep you a nice fellow."

"How can I be nice at a time like this? Do you expect me to act like an Amity when my life is in danger because someone betrayishly squealed on me?!"

Tobias instantly looked sympathetic.

"No," he said, gently. "I'm sorry-, I must be acting like an a-hole right now." He sat on the cot next to me.

"You always were one," I said. "But that's okay, because that's something we have in common. We simply don't know how to talk politely."

"I remember my mom telling me to stop asking rude questions." He laughed. "Once, I asked one of my parents' friends why he was so fat."

"I've done that. I also asked someone why they got a divorce."

"Amity people get divorced?"

"It happens every once in a while."

As if we'd seen each other only yesterday, instead of over a year ago, he put an arm around my shoulders.

"Are you happy here, Tobias?"

"No. Life's as terrible as always. At least I have more independence; I don't have to live under anyone's iron fist. That's what makes it worth it."

"Are you loved by anyone? Have you made friends like I asked you to?"

"A few. I really like 'em. What about you?"

"I've made a few, also. It's so weird, but so wonderful, having friends. Real friends. Now I have to make new ones, due to this escape. Oh, well-. I guess that's how life is."

"Speaking of friends, who's Ella? How come you trusted her so much?"

"She was a young lady I've been seeing ever since the middle of initiation."

"Ooh! Lennon's got a girlfriend!" he said in a singsong voice, flapping his hands about. I assumed the hand thing was supposed to be effeminate, or something, but it was the opposite of convincing.

I laughed.

"Her being a squealer didn't exactly help keep our relationship going," I said. "So, have you got a girlfriend? I mean, a hot, sexy papa like you wouldn't have trouble getting one."

"Nah. None of the Dauntless girls have captured my attention like that. They don't break enough stereotypes; you know what I mean?"

"Maybe there isn't anyone in the Universe for you."

"Thanks a lot. But, back to what you said, about me being really hot and really sexy: Ignoring my elephant ears, I've caused many a stare due to my manly figure."

"Really?"

"There was Ruby. She had red hair. Also, a black-haired girl named Ebony, who was just dying to get out of the friend zone. Then, Violet, she had purple hair, she tattooed the number four on her wrist."

"Huh?"

"'Four' is what people call me around here. Anyway, who's been staring at you?"

"Well, there was Elizabeth. She and Sigurd have rutted, so I'm obviously not her absolute favorite. Peter really likes me, though I think his feelings have become more fraternal than flirtatiously crushy."

"What? A guy's attracted to you? I've had some non-traditional suitors, but I'm pretty sure no guy has had the hots for me. Never ever."

For some reason I can't explain, I doubted that.

We talked on for over an hour, catching up on what'd been going on each other's lives within the past year or so. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed him, and, as the conversation went on, I realized how much he'd missed me.

"Um…Tobias? Aren't I having an execution soon?"

"Shoot! I forgot!"

He took out a jacket, shirt, and pair of pants from under the cot's mattress.

"Tori and I make sure there's always an outfit here," he explained. "This, Lenny, is Dauntless garb, a complementary disguise."

The clothing reminded me of a cheesy sci-fi "we're gonna fight the aliens" thing. The cargo pants were kind of ironic, next to the tight T-shirt. It put images of Hilary Becker in my head.

"Hmmm…" Tobias frowned. "You don't have enough muscle to be Dauntless, so that tight shirt'll only show how scrawny you are. My T's baggier; you can wear it."

Tobias took off his hoodie and shirt, and handed the shirt to me. Right before he put back on the hoodie, I noticed a tattoo peeking out from around his sides. Apparently, some gigantic work of art was all over his back, making him look like Rory the Flattened Turtle. These Dauntless folk never cease to weird me out. I mean, don't all those tattoos hurt?

After donning the Dauntless outfit, I put my black Candor shoes back on.

"That footwear's a bit too formal for Dauntless," Tobias said. "But, oh, well. They look enough like tennis shoes that no one'll notice." He took a marker out of his pants pocket, and drew design on my neck and face- a temporary tattoo.

"There." He smirked. "Now no one will notice a Candor fellow about to be executed wandering about. You can blend in." He shoved my Candor clothes under the cot.

He led me out of the cell, took me down a hallway, and into the Pit. The noisy crowd made me nervous, but I tried not to show it on my face.

_Act Dauntless, _I told myself. _Pretend you haven't a fear in the world._

"Hey, Four!"

Tobias turned around to see two young men walking towards us. They were rather tall, and had big, goofy smiles. Their skin was the darkest I'd ever seen on a person, and they were slender but athletic-looking. They were obviously brothers- the older fellow was the plain-looking one.

"Where you headed?" the older one asked.

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "What happened to your front tooth? It looks like part of it's been chipped off!"

A wave of fear went through me. I had a feeling honest mouths were not favored in Dauntless.

Both young men laughed, though.

"Who's your new friend, Four?" the older one asked.

"Just someone I'm discussing business with me," Tobias replied. "By the way, I'll return that wertle ramslang if you need me to."

"Nah. You can keep it if you want. So, stranger discussing business with Four, what's your name?"

I blanched. What should I say? Had news of that disgusting Divergent, Lennon, spread? I decided not to lie, but make an alias. (I mean, it can be my real name, if not a legal one).

"Andromeda."

What on earth? Seriously? Did I seriously give myself a _girl's _name? I felt like an idiot… Still, the strangers seemed fooled. I guess they'd never heard that name before.

"Well, Andromeda, my name is Zeke." The older one smiled, holding out his hand. I shook it, scared my grip was weak. Oh, well. This fellow didn't seem to care.

"And I'm Uriah," said the younger one. "His handsome brother." He held out his hand, which I shook. He also didn't seem to care about my weak grip.

"We have to go…" Tobias said.

"But we're just getting acquainted with Andromeda!" Zeke protested. "I haven't seen him anywhere around here. I wanna' know a little bit about him."

"Yeah!" Uriah said. "Getting to know folks is one of the best things a person can do! So, Andromeda, what do you think of parachuting off the tops of buildings?"

"I don't normally do it," I replied. "Sorry."

"Maybe I could take you sometime." Uriah suddenly looked disappointed. "Seriously? Don't you enjoy parachuting at all? You have to get it into your groove, man!"

"And his groove says he's busy right now," said Tobias.

"What's this business stuff he's a part of?" Zeke asked. "He doesn't look like the sort who'd train initiates. Four, have you some sort of side-job outside of your initiate duties we don't know about, and Andromeda is your associate, or partner, or P.A., or something?"

Tobias grabbed my arm, and dragged me away.

"Is it something I said?" Zeke looked confused. "Um… See ya, Four! Hope to see ya'lso, Andromeda!"

"Bye, Andromeda!" Uriah hollered.

"Watch what you say!" Tobias hissed, leading me through the crowd. " They could've figured out… ere-whay ou're-yay om-fray!"

_Seriously? _I thought. _He expects no one around here to understand Pig Latin? Still, if they didn't recognize the name Andromeda… _

We reached an insignificant-looking door on one end of the Pit. Tobias took out a key out of his pocket, unlocked the door, and opened it. He led me in through the door, which led to a long hallway. He shut the door.

"Are you sure no one's gonna notice us going through a locked doorway?" I asked.

"One of the great things about Dauntless is that there's so much going on already that someone disappearing into a tiny, locked door doesn't draw attention," he said. "Still, if today hadn't been a festival, we would've had to be more careful."

"There's a festival going on today?"

"Beerfest. Happens twice each year."

"So, Dauntless folk aren't normally this noisy?"

"Of course not. They're normally noisier."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Now," he said, "go down this hallway," he said, " and, when you get there, go through the fourth door on the right. That leads to another hallway. Go down the third door on the left, which will lead you outside. Afterwards, walk down Trident Street until you reach the intersection. Turn right on Daragon Way." He gave me further instructions towards the Abnegation section of the city. Finally, he said, "It's time for you to go."

"Thanks, Tobias," I said.

"No problem, Lennon. This is just something I do."

A moment of silence passed between us.

Then I then said, "It was good to see you again. I mean, I realize you don't like all that mushy, fluffy stuff, but it really has been wonderful, despite the circumstances, to be face-to-face with you again."

"I know.," Tobias said. He reached his hand out and ran it over my shoulder.

The gentle, rubbing motion was calming. It reminded me of Alexandra rubbing my back affectionately, right before she walked towards the basin to be baptized. It reminded me of how my mother would run her fingers through my hair when I was little and would get hurt. It reminded me of how Matthew would teasingly pinch my cheek and call me "a wee bairn". It reminded me of my farewell with Jack. And… it reminded me of Ella, and how I'd thought I could trust her as she set her head lightly on my shoulder.

"Goodbye.," I said, hugging him tightly. "Thank you…"

I walked down the hallway, escaping to freedom.

-PAGE BREAK!-

I followed Tobias's instructions, all the way to Abnegation. Outside on the streets it was dark- my journey started just after twilight. Every once in a while, I would see someone respectable-looking walking down the street, but they wouldn't pay much attention to me. They probably thought I was just some reckless Dauntless fellow fooling around at night.

For the second half of my journey to Abnegation, I ran most of the way. I only stopped once to pee in an secluded alleyway. My goal was to get there soon. My mind couldn't be at rest until the destination was in full view.

Still, my hurry wasn't the only reason for running. It simply felt good to stretch out my legs in a double-time walk, to hear a slight breeze go past my ears, to feel my heart pulsating as if it wanted to burst out of my chest. I almost felt free, as if I had no troubles in the world.

Finally arriving on Pumpernickel Street, I found house number 543. Lights were still on in the windows, making it all look very cozy indeed. I walked up the stoop and knocked on the door.

The door was answered by a fellow about my age. My word, he looked like Ella! Same thick, black hair, same calm alertness in the eyes, and same long face. I had to remind myself that this wasn't Ella, and this person was supposed to hide Divergents, not expose them.

"Is this the house of Geb Whiteeagle and Shimea Barjesse?" I asked, though I knew the answer.

"Yes," the Ella-esque fellow said. "You must be sent by… Yeah, you must be sent. Come on in."

I went inside of the house. The walls were either grey or white, and there were no decorations anywhere. I seemed to be in some sort of parlor, due to the grey sofas and arm chairs, as well as the ugly, stained wood table.

"My name's Geb," Ella's male doppelganger said. He hollered, "Shimea! We have _one _here!"

Another fellow about my age walked through of a doorway. He had a curved nose like Matthew's, and was somewhat short, with eyes such a light blue color that I thought for a second he might be blind.

"This is Shimea," Geb introduced his roommate to me.

"Hello," Shimea said, smiling. "May I ask for your name?"

"My name's Lennon Kang," I replied.

"And which faction do you come from?"

"I'm an Amity-born transfer to Candor."

Geb raised an eyebrow.

"Amity transferring to Candor?" he inquired. "I would never have thought, having grown up in Amity myself. Actually, I think I might remember seeing you before. Were you the kid who fell out of that tree and broke his arm the Midsummer before last?"

"No. I have no idea who you're talking about."

"Guess I was wrong, then. Maybe you were someone else."

"Excellent deduction, Sherlock."

Geb and Shimea both laughed.

"Let's get you some dinner," Shimea said. "You must be famished."

"I'll find you some jammies," Geb said. "You don't want to sleep in those ugly Dauntless clothes, do ya'?"

After eating, and putting on the grey pajamas, I went into the extra bedroom, and sprawled out on the bed, exhausted.

My last thought before falling asleep was, _I'm gonna miss everyone back in Candor..._

**So, I was thinking of posting one more chapter after this, and, if you-all want me to write more about Lennon, I can have him eventually come in in my story about Geb. Cool idea? No? Or do you want this story to go on forever, like Celine Dion's heart? Also, would anyone here be willing to read a story of mine if it's a crossover between *Divergent* and *The Maze Runner*? I've been thinking about it, and the idea just seems swell. Also, would anyone here read a *Hunger Games* fanfic about Titus (he's the one Katniss talked about who went cannibalistic)? Just wondering. Please review, favorite, follow, whatever! :) **


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